watch the film:
on the path: meditation, spirituality, and the dark night of the soul
About the film
Mindfulness-based practices are becoming increasingly popular. Millions of people across the globe engage in a contemplative practice such meditation or yoga. Research suggests these practices have a wide range of mental and physical health benefits.
Yet, for many practitioners, "the path" of meditation or spirituality is fraught with difficulties. In fact, these difficulties are considered "normal" and expected in many wisdom traditions. Modern culture and the "Western mind" tend to overlook these challenges, leaving many practitioners feeling isolated and confused.
On the Path: Meditation, Spirituality, and the Dark Night of the Soul sheds light on the difficulties associated with contemplative practice. It offers viewers multiple frameworks or "maps" from which to understand these experiences, ranging from the biological to the mythological. While the Dark Night can be seen as an obstacle, it may also be viewed as a gift.
Why was the film created?
The challenges of meditation and spirituality are seldom acknowledged. The film aims to generate more conversation around these challenges. It offers practical strategies for practitioners, teachers, and therapists on navigating the Dark Night as it relates to spiritual practice.
Broadly speaking, everyone goes through a Dark Night—whether in the context of spiritual practice or not. The Dark Night manifests as illness, divorce, career transitions, loss of a loved one, and so on. The Dark Night is simply going from the known to the unknown; going from order to chaos. At every level of life—from cell to society—this process is necessary for transformation. The Dark Night brings symptoms and initiates us into a new way of being.
The filmmaker’s own “dark night”
My meditation practice began around age 18. Like everyone else, I came to practice because of suffering. The practice was immediately helpful. I gained more focus, insight, compassion, and nonreactivity. Yet, as I continued to practice, I began to question how much it was serving me. I experienced a number of challenges summarized in the Varieties of Contemplative Experience study such as emotional lability (up/down mood), changes in sleep, involuntary muscle movements, and changes in sense of self. I often felt more “foggy” after sitting meditation; like stirring a glass of water with dirt at the bottom, the “stuff” of my mind and body came swirling up after practice. I would practice intensely for long periods of time and, after questioning its utility, take a break from practice, then return, and so on.
The peak of my “Dark Night” seemed to occur at age 23 while living in a Zen Buddhist monastery. I heard from family and friends that they were “worried” about my “personality changing.” I had apparently seemed more introverted and withdrawn—more consumed by inner struggles. I barely realized these changes without the feedback from those around me; it happened right beneath my nose. I began further questioning, “Why am I so invested in this practice?” “Am I on the right ‘path’?” “Am I making ‘spiritual progress’ or simply caught in some delusion?” Something inside me told me this was “right”—that voluntarily being on this “path” was necessary and (at some point) inevitable to personal growth—so I kept trekking on (still, with brief periods of suspending practice). Years later I came to realize I was experiencing the remnants of an earlier depressive episode during this period. The changes in my mood and personality—while likely drawn out by meditation practice—may well have appeared on their own.
This brings up an important question: can meditation itself trigger a “Dark Night,” or does it simply exacerbate existing psychiatric problems? I think both can be true, which is born out by the research: even those without a psychiatric history can experience adverse effects after beginning meditation. Yet, those who struggle with mental health might be at greater risk. This leads to a second important question: for those experiencing mental health challenges or going through a “dark night",” is continuing to practice meditation helpful or hurtful? Again, both can be true. While certain forms of practice can make things worse, practices can also be adapted in a healthy and healing manner. Practices must be tailored to meet a person’s mental, physical, social, cultural, and spiritual circumstances at that particular time. It is also helpful for practitioners to reflect on their aims (e.g., relaxation vs. dissolving self/ego); a practice should “work” for the individual based on their values and goals. Our culture must continue to reflect on these issues as we integrate these practices into modern life.
My own practice has continued to fluctuate and adapt over time. I have found other mind-body approaches immensely helpful in lieu of, or in conjunction with, sitting meditation practice: diaphragmatic breathing, somatic awareness, self-compassion, gratitude, and many others. Self-compassion, in particular, seems to be a powerful missing ingredient in my practice. Mindfulness is often defined as “nonjudgmental awareness,” but the “nonjudgmental” part is exceptionally difficult for many practitioners (this is also supported by the research). Perhaps the difficulties of spiritual practice invite us to cultivate greater acceptance and compassion towards ourselves and others. While the The Dark Night initially appears an obstacle or enemy to practice, its true brilliance and purpose is to guide us towards greater compassion, resilience, and gratitude for life.