July 24, 2022
Sintra, Portugal
A few steps into the cave: darkness. I couldn’t tell the difference between eyes open or closed. Silence pressed upon my ears. I smelled dampness. Reaching overhead, I felt the cool stone ceiling. Reaching out right and left, my hands meet ruddy stone walls. Rather than claustrophobia, I felt magic.
We’d found our way to Quinta da Regaleira, a historic mansion surrounded by acres of whimsical gardens in Sintra, a town about an hour from Lisbon’s center. The mansion and grounds are touted as a fairy-tale wonderland perfect for kids and the young at heart to explore.
They were right. Wandering the grounds, we found ivy-covered stone walls, winding staircases, statues, turrets, and secret pathways.
We found a well with a spiral staircase running into its depths.
And we found caves. Following paths into the caves, we never knew where we’d emerge. It was like being the White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland except without time pressures.
As I stood in the complete darkness of the first cave, I considered the meaning of darkness. To say “I’m in a dark place” means I’m depressed or sad or experiencing some other malady that I must get through. But in this cave, I was in a dark place full of awe and wonder. I didn’t want to leave just yet; I didn’t crave the light. And then I thought about wombs and cocoons: also dark places but associated with safety, incubation, and new life. And so it was in this cave: dark, senseless and also safe and wondrous.
I could have turned on the flashlight on my phone to keep moving forward, but I didn’t want to break the spell of darkness just yet. I wanted to feel my way through in constant awareness of what was above, below, and all around me. I’d have to be careful. I’d have to pay attention. I’d have to trust my instincts.
And so I began inching forward with short, deliberate steps. One sandaled foot slightly forward. Feel the ground. Map the walls and ceiling with your hands. Bring the other foot forward. Begin again.
The lack of light created a new way for me to explore the world. I felt each muscle in my feet and legs helping me sense my way forward. When I stopped, I assessed how the previous step had gone and the possibilities for the next step. I wanted to savor this in-the-moment awareness for as long as possible.
Eventually, my foot felt water. My brain turned the water into a multitude of options: a lake, a pond, a puddle. The latter I could simply walk through. The former could lead to trouble. Without knowing what lay ahead, I finally turned on the flashlight.
The walls of the cave appeared otherworldly, a tannish off-white stone that glistened with dampness. The path ahead of me led around a corner. At my feet, a puddle. Hardly the lake I’d feared.
I stepped around the puddle, and then turned off my light. But the light had broken the spell of darkness. I began to use the light more and more. I walked quicker with longer strides. I walked with purpose, exploring and also wondering where we’d end. It was as if my light had sped up time. What’s next became more important than what was right here right now.
Finally, I saw daylight revealing the lake I’d feared earlier on the trail. The sea-green water shimmered in the sideways light. I smiled to see stone steps leading into the water. My fears had been at least somewhat justified.
I’ve begun to think about this experience as an analogy for where I currently am in my life. I’m in a dark place. This darkness is not the dark of depression or sadness but the darkness of a soft, warm incubator. My dark place is a slowing down. It’s a chance to notice every movement with all of my senses, and then watch what happens next. I’m taking small, deliberate steps toward something but because it’s dark, I don’t know when it’ll end or where I’ll be when I emerge. Just as I knew that the path through the cave would eventually lead to light, I trust that my current dark path also leads to light. I’m not afraid of the dark. I have a flashlight if I need it, but I’m trying not to use it. I want to savor the magic of this dark incubation as I find a new way to explore the world. When I emerge into the light, I can’t wait to see what wonders await me.