In the Dark: Reflections from a UU Spiritual Directors Book Circle

I’m part of a book discussion circle for Unitarian Universalist spiritual directors, both seasoned practitioners and those in formation. It’s a lovely gathering where ideas cross-pollinate and relationships deepen. We just finished reading Barbara Brown Taylor’s Learning to Walk in the Dark, and I love that we read it in the darkest season of the year.

Many people fear the dark: confusion, grief, lostness, the absence of spiritual consolation. Taylor offers a theological and experiential framework that dignifies the night as necessary and formative. She reminds us that lunar spirituality has always been part of the spiritual life. Slow, cyclical, hidden, and generative. A counterbalance to the relentless “love and light” versions of some Christianity and contemporary spirituality.

As we do with every book, we asked: How might this shape our spiritual direction practice?

This time, the book inspired more questions than tidy insights. Below are some of the reflection questions that emerged. These are questions to sit with, to bring into direction, or to carry gently into your own dark nights.

Questions About the Roots of Our Fear

• Where do your fears of the dark come from, and how might those fears be shaped by cultural, social, or racialized messages you’ve received?

• When you imagine darkness as a protective cloak rather than a threat, what shifts?

• Where might the dark be holding you rather than hiding you?

Questions About Darkness as Teacher

• What is the dark asking of you that the light never could?

• What feels true in the dark?

• What quiet guidance shows up only when you stop reaching for the flashlight?

Questions About Senses, Embodiment, and Presence

• What becomes possible for you when you stop relying on sight?

• How do your other senses lead you toward the holy?

Questions About Creativity, Liberation, and Becoming

• When you think about times of liberation, imagination, or dissent in your life, what parts of those beginnings felt like “darkness,” quiet, hidden, not yet visible?

• If you imagine darkness as a creative and powerful space rather than something to avoid, what invitations begin to emerge for you?

• What small action could you take if you assumed that divine accompanies you in the dark?

If any of these questions speak to you, I hope you carry them gently into your season. The dark is not empty. It is full of guidance, full of God, full of possibility. Sometimes we just need time for our eyes to adjust.