November Reflections
Sunday morning, watch light rudely glaring, time 4.30 am.
My internal voice says 'But is it really?" so I fumble around in the dark for my phone - find the umbilical cord of it's charger & gingerly pull it toward me hoping not to disconnect it on the way.
Phone also says 4.30am, my internal voice says 'But is it really?!’ I turn to the oracle that is Google, the place to turn for all of life’s most crucial answers. Google confirms that all the other technology that I have doubted, is in fact right.
By this time multiple screen lights have well and truly woken me & my brain has decided my body must begin the day.
I am 51. For as long as I have known the rhyme 'spring forward & fall back' I have also thought it might be 'spring back & fall forward'.
In short, it has always confused me. I never ever know which way it is.it is of no use whatsoever. ln my head I see a cartoon style image of small person falling forward - my mind freezes the frame-I rewind the image and they fall back. Both seem entirely possible. Ever since I abandoned my trusty swatch watch (80's classic, red, multicoloured hands) and let technology take control of my measure of time, I have doubted that the device has moved forward (or back).
I routinely go through this factchecking ritual. My only solid evidence of some sort of shift is the perpetual flashing of the oven clock and its distant cousin on my car dashboard,,, both of them forever hanging on to the summer, what follows the early morning ritual of time doubting-is a day filled with conversations that go along the line of... "it is 6.30 but it’s really 7.30 isn’t it".
This interests me and always has. Time is a concept; whilst this dance back & forth has become anchored into digits, what we are really trying to do is chase the light. We shift an hour here and there to chase it, to maximise the chance to capture it... originally for productivity & now, well, it just a habit that punctuates the year. A habit rarely questioned, with a confusing rhyme attached.
The light. Its absence naturally lulls us to sleep; its presence softly wakes us. This gentle way is natural, our circadian rhythm is influenced and our ability to rest, restore, and be active is all there ready to be tuned in to - without the need to double check with Google.
The blackbird wakes our day with its early song - gifted with the widest eyes, the first to notice in the rising sun, and it will be the last bird singing as the day starts to rest and the night sky takes over.
These might seem like simple whimsical reflections this month but my thoughts are these:
Sometimes we simply have to sit with the discomfort of the darkness to be able to see the light emerging.
These days we are provided with endless opportunities to change our environment, to chase daylight, buy clocks that mimic a sunrise, buy curtains that plumet us into darkness - I have experienced it all. I have chased light, blocked light, changed light.
But there is nothing quite like the experience of sitting in the quiet stillness of the dark, finding my breath & waiting - for the blackbird to tell me, look up, the light is on its way.
- Katy