The Dark Night of the Cold

The overriding problem in living in a northern place like Fairbanks is not so much the cold — which one can dress for — but the descent of the light. The body essentially goes into hibernation and the normal bodily rhythms are impaired. Among other factors, When the sun goes below 45 degrees — i.e., your shadow is longer than your body — there is not enough direct sunlight to produce Vitamin D. This starts in October in Fairbanks, and at the December solstice the sun is 2 degrees about the horizon.

In its own way — in the external world — the descent into deep winter in Fairbanks is a parallel to “the dark night of the soul”. 

One feels humbled and hopeless before the overwhelming forces of nature.

The phrase “the dark night of the soul” has its origin i a book by St. John of the Cross, a poet, a Spanish Catholic priest, mystic and Carmelite friar from Spain in the 1500’s.

This is the opening poem in “Noche obscura del almo”:

“La noche oscura del alma[4] En una noche oscura Con ansias en amores inflamada, ¡Oh dichosa ventura! Sali sin ser notada, Estando ya mi casa sosegada. A oscuras, y segura Por la secreta escala disfrazada, ¡Oh dichosa ventura! A oscuras y encelada Estando ya mi casa sosegada. En la noche dichosa En secreto, que nadie me veia, Ni yo miraba cosa, Sin otra luz, y guia, Sino la que en el corazón ardia. Aquesta me guiaba Más cierto que la luz del mediodia, A donde me esperaba, Quien yo bien me sabia, En parte, donde nadie parecia. ¡Oh noche que guiaste, Oh noche amable más que el alborada; Oh noche que juntaste Amado con amada, Amada en el Amado transformada! En mi pecho florido, Que entero para él sólo se guardaba, Allí quedó dormido, Y yo le regalaba, Y el ventalle de cedros aire daba. El aire de la almena, Cuando yo sus cabellos esparcia, Con su mano serena En mi cuello heria, Y todos mis sentidos suspendia. Quedéme, y olvidéme, El rostro recliné sobre el Amado, Cesó todo, y dejéme, Dejando mi cuidado Entre las azucenas olvidado”.

Dark Night of the Soul[5] On a dark night, Kindled in love with yearnings —oh, happy chance!— I went forth without being observed, My house being now at rest. In darkness and secure, By the secret ladder, disguised —oh, happy chance!— In darkness and in concealment, My house being now at rest. In the happy night, In secret, when none saw me, Nor I beheld aught, Without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart. This light guided me More surely than the light of noonday To the place where he (well I knew who!) was awaiting me— A place where none appeared. Oh, night that guided me, Oh, night more lovely than the dawn, Oh, night that joined Beloved with lover, Lover transformed in the Beloved! Upon my flowery breast, Kept wholly for himself alone, There he stayed sleeping, and I caressed him, And the fanning of the cedars made a breeze. The breeze blew from the turret As I parted his locks; With his gentle hand he wounded my neck And caused all my senses to be suspended. I remained, lost in oblivion; My face I reclined on the Beloved. All ceased and I abandoned myself, Leaving my cares forgotten among the lilies.