The Dark Garden
One night in law school, I biked home in the dark. There was a garden on my route. Biking by, I could smell lemon and gardenia blossoms, even if it was too dark to see them.
Sometimes, the lights go out.
But some beautiful things grow in the dark.
This fall, Solarium’s colors have changed. The garden imagery is muted and inverted.
I want to show you something.
This little art studio grew from a season of darkness. Since I was eighteen, I wanted to be an attorney. But five years into practice, I developed depression. I took mental health leave, not once but twice.
Your brain can trick you, but your body never lies. And every fiber of mine told me I was miserable.
I left. Creativity helped me survive and rebuild.
That season spent in the dark showed me that darkness isn’t empty. Something beautiful can grow there. You may not be able to see the blossoms, but expand your senses. They are there.
Many Words, Same Season
Different traditions use different language for this same experience. Maybe you’re curious to learn more:
“Dark night of the soul”