Originally the title of this article, Darkness and the Redemption of the Light, sounded to me to be like an old-time church song, a boisterous Gospel hymn. It got me thinking about lyrics, a lot of Simon and Garfunkel, actually: “Hello Darkness, my old friend…” and then, Eleanor Rigby, who in picking up the rice after a wedding, seemed to be like so many of the lost souls who lived on the grounds of the Kings Park NY State Hospital, near where I grew up.

That brought me to think of the effects of depression and of the suffering of people who are depressed, which is the subject of my this article. In my practice around the time of the winter holidays, SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) begins to manifest. By February, it is prevalent. Those clients who are normally not depressed become more lethargic, those who are depressed already become more so. The depression in the economy only worsens individuals’ cares and fears, resulting in a collective darkness of mood.

Bring on the light. As healers, when we sit with people’s suffering, naturally we want them to feel better—that’s part of human empathy, to relieve the suffering of another so that person is no longer in pain. And, by proximity, neither are we. When Bill Clinton said “I feel your pain,” he wasn’t kidding. For sensitive people, empathy is inescapable.

But when people come for therapy, for real healing, not a quick fix or magical wave-of-the-wand solution, they can’t simply make everything better in two or three easy visits to the shrink. If they could, we’d both feel better. But healing is hard work. That’s why many people avoid psychotherapy. The rewards of going through the darkness are many and lasting—if we can make it through.

It's the hardest kind of need that never knows a reason
Are we such a lonely breed, or just born in a lonely season…*

Why would anyone go through the scariness of the mental and emotional healing process? The darkness, the old friend, isn’t so bad, really. The “devil you know” seems easier, our defenses are so reliable, let’s not rock the proverbial boat. Better just leave well enough alone.

But when the suffering gets too great, it’s time to make a change.

…all the tears between us couldn’t fill the spaces…
I kept waiting on forgiveness to fix the broken spaces…
I heard the sound a heart must make when a memory’s caving in
…..what a hungry place, outside looking in..*

To avoid the scariness of the healing process, people are driven further away from living life to the fullest. The isolation of a depressed person is standing on the outside of life, looking in.

…it's all in the eyes, it's where the reckoning begins
It's where we linger like a sigh,
it's where we long to be pulled in...*

As healers, we sit with those sufferers and know that we cannot just bring on the light and make it better. We sit with our clients’ suffering, knowing that the longing to be pulled in is as painful as the fear of being pulled in, knowing that each person’s healing time is unique to that individual. And we sit together with our clients, on the outside looking in.

*lyrics from Mary-Chapin Carpenter’s “Outside Looking In” © 1994.

Author's Bio: 

Mária Cipriani, a holistically-oriented psychotherapist in private practice in New York, NY, works extensively with lesbian and gay individuals and couples. She is co-founder and faculty member of the Learning For Life Group where she teaches Shamanic healing practice, ritual and Earth awareness, Intentional Dialogue, imaginal work, and basic psychotherapy skills.