Please note that while I will be exploring trauma through the lens of spirituality, I am by no means engaging in toxic positivity or spiritual bypassing. I do not believe that trauma is necessary for growth. This is my experience in a complicated world where my beliefs are constantly shifting. I will forever preach mundane over magic. The experiences shared in this article are not intended for medical advice. Please seek out professional help if you are in crisis. Spiritual practices are beautiful and healing but they are not a substitute for the care we need in the bodies and world we inhabit.
It’s hard to pin down exactly when the foundations of my life started to crumble. My life has always been a bit chaotic and unstable. It was as if I never quite fit in. Maybe it’s the neurodivergency of it all. But I think the beginning of the end happened on August 10, 2019. The day my mother died. I won’t bore you with the details—or trauma dump, as the cool kids lacking in empathy say—but grief is a beast of its own, and sometimes that beast unlocks our shadows, wreaks havoc on our nervous system, and sends us on the lonely journey spiritualists call the Dark Night of the Soul.
God and Satan’s Pissing Contest
Though I no longer resonate with Christianity, I do relate deeply to Job from the Bible. This man became the target of a pissing contest between Yaweh and what Christians label as the devil. Basically, the devil was like, “Yo, do you think Job would still love you even if you stripped everything away from him?” And God, prideful and abusive as ever, said Job would never forsake him. Satan said bet, and God abandoned Job. He let his family be murdered. He let this man lose absolutely everything while those all-too-familiar well-meaning people stop by to question our faith. Seriously, it’s pretty fucked up, but of course, it was my favorite book in the Bible growing up. I knew exactly what it was like to lose the things I love and have people belittle my faith.
“Consider now: Who, being innocent, has ever perished? Where were the upright ever destroyed? As I have observed,b those who plow evil and those who sow trouble reap it.” Job 4:7-8 NIV
“Surely God does not reject one who is blameless or strengthen the hands of evildoers.” – Job 8:20 NIV
When we are walking the path of the Dark Night of the Soul, our foundations crumble. As a tarot reader, we see this energy in The Tower card. The tower collapses. It’s horrific. It’s impossible. We lose what is most precious and foundational to our being… and yet, we continue to exist, and it’s through this existence we experience rebirth and rebuild.
Maybe I’m not a great builder, but if reading for individuals and collective energy has taught me anything, it’s that these tower moments, these dark nights of the soul, they are endless. They happen time and time again. And we rebuild time and time again. Some have it worse than others. Maybe it’s just the way of life in a cold, cruel world… but even if we remove the spiritual lens, it’s traumatic as fuck.
I could write an entire novel dissecting this experience through the perception of Gnosticism, Hermeticism, and various belief systems… and yet, it doesn’t stop it. Not entirely. So, what’s a girl to do when she is sitting homeless in a motel, crying to the all-too-fitting song “Indigo”, and wondering why she is being given the Job treatment without any end in sight?
Trauma Dumping or Lore—You Pick!
Weeks before my mom passed, I could feel my deceased father’s presence so intensely that I was convinced he was there for me. I thought I was dying. To be honest, I never expected to outlive my mother. I even told an old friend, Thomas, that if my mom died, that was it. No more fighting to stay alive. But I did. I stayed alive.
I cried. I healed with roommates and friends and music and movies. I started my dream job with a publisher. I reconnected with Thomas. I came out as bisexual. I left the Mormon church. I started living authentically. I found such deep healing during that awful grieving period. Then COVID happened. I lost my job. I moved back to California and the liminal desert I always hated. I had my first mystery health episode that seemed to be the pandora’s box for endless suffering. I lost all of my friends—a cycle that seems to keep repeating, as if the Universe offers me enough hope and stability so it can have the desired impact when it rips everything away from me once again.
From the wild-eyed woman outside the Vegas airport who declared she knew what I was and threatened to kill me at 4 A.M. to the ambulance rides where my blood pressure was 300/250 and climbing as the EMTs yelled at me to eating rotten food and starving even when I had money because no one could be bothered to help me get to the store… I do think my suffering is calculated. Divinely designed. In the midst of all this suffering, these looping Dark Nights, I found myself Kundalini activated… and no, I don’t mean the sexy yoga vibes. I mean that soul-crushing awakening sparked by a soul-tie so deep no cord cutting can remove it.
I have no reason to be here. I have only a few days left in this motel and then… nothing. I’m exhausted. I don’t know how much longer my mind or body can survive. The last few weeks I’ve spent ripping out my hair, hitting myself, and essentially entering spiritual psychosis.
But maybe I do have a reason to be alive. Maybe there is some reason. I think about how a few years before my mother’s death, my friend at the time asked me why I think bad things happen. I told her they just do, and I don’t think there’s any reason for it. I hate the way people use spiritual bypassing to overlook trauma or justify it. Being raped by my ex-husband and experiencing abuse was not part of any higher power’s plan. If it is, they can fuck off. And yes, I will boldly tell a deity, even Yaweh, to fuck off. She couldn’t understand how I could hold space for these awful things without justification and still hold space for prayer. I guess in ways, although I had yet to admit it to myself, I could feel the darkness in Yaweh. In religious structures. In this world.
I will forever hold space for duality without justifying the darkness. If you are navigating this, I want you to know you are not alone. Please, know that there is hope—I say this from deep in the trenches, hopeless most days, but hope is all we have. After the Tower in tarot comes the Star. The Star is hope. It is wish fulfillment. Sometimes, I think this hope may only exist in death. May that change for me one day.
I intend to dive deeper into this, especially Kundalini activation, and what has helped me navigate these energies and keep myself grounded. If I make it out of this alive… or even if I don’t, even if I only exist a few more days … if giving up is my final act of love for myself … I want to give others the support and love I didn’t receive. Even if it’s just one person who reads this and takes away the truth that these dark nights and activations are not easy, and they come through no fault of our own.
You deserve peace. You deserve healing. And hey, they say once we navigate this, we will be able to heal ourselves and those around us.
May we finally shift from dark nights to bright days,
Sara Elizabeth
Serendipity Minds 