It seems that I’m becoming more comfortable with embracing challenges these days. With that in mind, I’m embracing the A-to-Z Blogging challenge, by writing about the things that I most closely associate with being alive, when I show up and engage with life as fully as possible.
And with that, I give you:
I am a creature of the night. When the sun goes down, I become energized, ready to tackle whatever comes my way. It is the time when I feel the most creative, the most centered, the most myself. Is it any wonder that mornings and I are not on the best of terms?
I don’t know where this love of the dark came from. My father was a career Air Force sergeant. His work schedule, particularly early on in his career, was all over the place. Swings. Mids. Days. Mum is a little more predisposed to being a “night owl” but not by much.
The rhythm of life is so much different at night. It is measured and deliberate. Breath is slower, deeper, leading me to still the racing in my mind. It’s the only time when my head slows down long enough for me to make sense of things, to find some kind of meaning to the things that bother me when the sun hangs high in the sky.
“If people sat outside and looked at the stars each night, I’ll bet they’d live a lot differently.”
– Bill Watterson
The night isn’t always benign. Sometimes it is fraught with tension, storms, thunder, lightning. It seems as though all of heaven is pounding down onto the earth, furious, frantic, frenzied. Ask anyone who has lived any time at all in Tornado Alley. I used to watch the trees during the storms, watched their branches buck and twist against the wind, leaves whipping in the tempest. They groaned protest against the downpour, the winds that swirled and churned about them. And sometimes the tempest is in my own heart. The downside to being so fond of the night is there is nothing to keep the Eye from seeing me. All of me. My heart and mind is laid bare and I don’t always like what I am shown. But when the calm comes, as it will, there is a peace and a resilience that had been obscured by the frenzy. I feel my strength return.
“Wild nights are my glory.”
– Madeleine L’Engle, A Wrinkle in Time
I love the night. I love watching the moon move through its phases. I love watching Mars and Venus and Jupiter chase one another across the sky, playing hide-and-seek amongst the stars before hiding behind the curve of the moon and returning to the night sky’s depths. And because I love the night so much, I also love the morning. The promises whispered in the dark may yet retain their power in the light. The fears confronted and conquered under night’s shadow lend strength to struggles faced in daylight.
“I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”
– Sarah Williams