The Great Work: Embracing the Nigredo and Self-Reliance

I’ve been fighting the urge to give up all my dignity and go total goblin mode with my emotions on social media about how my community abandoned me and until now, this is a hill I was prepared to die on. I think I was severely disillusioned by the TV show, Friends, as a kid in middle school and high school. I believed (and sometimes still do) that true friendship, true community is one where everyone is available all the time, no matter what and everything can be solved with the power of friendship. Everyone knows every little thing about each other; every moment, good or bad, is experienced in a close knit collective forevermore. As an adult, I’ve learned that it’s not quite like that. But I promised myself I wouldn’t make this post about the woes of loneliness and anger I’ve felt this past year, especially while going through this medical journey. Because the truth is, even if I had a giant community of people around me, I would still be in pain and wouldn’t be any closer to getting answers. The deepest truth, the one that I’ve been avoiding for a long time, is the only person who is going to get me through this is me. Descending into the Underworld is not a girl’s trip with all my closest friends where we all get fun bracelets at the end. The nigredo is not and never will be a group project. It’s just me, staring down the open maw of the cave, refusing to go in because, well, I’m scared shitless. I do have an amazing support system and I am deeply loved by all of them but no one is going to swoop in on a mighty steed and take the pain away from me. And while help is needed sometimes (we’ll get to this in a minute), asking someone to take over while I just chill isn’t an option. No one can or should carry my water. It’s no one’s job to save me or heal me. It’s no one’s fault that I’m hurt. It just is. Which is, by far, one of the most profound and most annoying phrases on the planet. “It is what it is.” Which is oddly, but not-so-oddly, very close to, “So mote it be.” Huh. It’s really a spell of letting go, right? “Whatever will be, will be.” Just a simple, little phrase filled with so much magic and wisdom. This may not be my season of community and that’s okay. I’ve had community before and I’ll have it again. But I cannot keep this anger about the loss of said community inside me anymore. For so long, The Wheel has kept turning but I’ve stayed in the same stage, burning and burning but never allowing totally disintegration, because what if I’m different when I come out? What if the burning is all there is and the other parts of the cycle are so far beyond me? I had a realization that if I want to fully integrate and be able to see the light of the albedo, I absolutely have to let the blackening tear this fear, this envy, this entitlement away from my bones; from my very soul. The point, I’m realizing, is not to find myself in a village being lifted up, but to make myself a better villager so I can lift up others when the time comes. Another major part of my nigredo is venturing through the Land of Two Truths on a pretty regular basis; holding the tension of the opposites as it were. The most recent adventure brought me to to an understanding that no one is going to save me but at the same time, I do actually need help sometimes and asking for it will not, in fact, kill me. Even if my brain keeps trying to convince me otherwise. It’s that silly part of our ancient survival instinct that still perceives danger in the forest but now the “danger” is in our minds, replaying the possibility of abandonment, rejection and being truly alone over and over again. For me, I would rather suffer in silence than reach out for help. But part of the descent into the unknown means reaching my hands out, pushing past the thickly woven membrane of isolation that I worked so hard to build into an experience of true connection. What lies on the other side might not be what I expected but it could be better than I ever hoped; it just takes the steps forward to find out. This isn’t spiritual bypassing or putting a toxically positive spin on my pain. I’m still angry. I’m still hurt. I still feel the emptiness in my heart where community used to be. And that’s okay. A nigredo is not going to magically burn away the emotions that well up inside me; that’s not the point. It will, however, make me look at those emotions in the face and find out where they came from so I can greet them better when they come to visit. I have no idea what’s going to happen with my health or my job or any of it and even less so when I’ll have a healthy community again. But it’s not my job to figure it out right this moment. For now I’m going to burn down to the prima materia. The Great Work is calling and I must meet it head on.

The author reflects on the disillusionment of childhood expectations of community versus adult reality, particularly during a challenging medical journey. They articulate the necessity of personal descent into the 'nigredo' to confront pain and fear, acknowledging that while a support system is valuable, ultimate healing and integration are individual responsibilities. The post emphasizes moving from a place of anger and perceived abandonment towards making oneself a better 'villager' capable of lifting others, and the importance of embracing the tension of opposites, including the paradox of needing help while also being the primary agent of one's own healing.

I completely resonate with your story. There are a couple aspects such as “No one can carry my water but me” and the aspect about friends, as well as, living two truths, these things match my journey so much this year. While as you know well, it has been long and lonely, it still has equally been more rewarding than anything else I’ve experienced in life because of my personal growth and my deepened connection with source or God, whichever. And I am not religious but I have somehow tapped into some aspect of reality that has co-created this “descent” to guide me through my “liberation corridor” as smoothly as it can possibly be as I go through this “ascension process.” One thing about the onlook of others is that I learned to view them as aspects of my very self, because they are. Your friends, they are aspects of you though everyone lives “in their own world” and only the ones that resonate with you the most will find their way to orbit closer or more frequently around you. And since you are on this app, I’m already knowing that it’s few because your brilliant and brilliancy tends to make people uncomfortable until they can resonate with you naturally. No fault to either you or them. Everyone blooms in their own time and in their own way. Our work is to be radiant regardless of who is watching - it’s not a performance after all, it’s a soul growth journey. I send you so much comforting love, like the gentle kind you feel when someone rubs circles along your back. Because I know you are tired, too. I leave you with this… pace yourself and know that my heart and every other heart around you, is connected to yours. From my point in the universe I amplify m light so that it feeds yours a bit right now. I feel you in your journey and we are all in this together. I know it can feel lonely, especially when growing up out of illusions, but you are not alone here and there is so much more love radiating around you than I could ever explain. Be easy, my friend 💓 Until next time.