Embracing Darkness

With the Fall Equinox is behind us, from here until the Winter Solstice, darkness gains a few more minutes every day. The modern response: pretend it isn’t happening.

We turn on more lights. Keep the same schedule. Expect the same energy. Eat dinner under bright overheads at eight o’clock and stare into illuminated screens until bedtime. In other words, we have become remarkably good at making October behave like June.

But the body still notices.

Light and darkness are among the environmental cues that help regulate our circadian rhythms, influencing when we feel awake, when we become sleepy, and affecting everything from appetite and digestion to concentration and mood.

So perhaps the shorter days don’t need to be overcome. Maybe they simply require a little more participation. And by more, we suggest “less.”

USE THE LIGHT

One of the best ways to embrace darkness, and adjust to shorter days, is to pay more attention to the light you do have.

Morning light is a particularly strong signal to the body’s internal clock. Open the curtains when you wake. Drink your coffee outside. Walk the dog before work instead of after. Eat lunch outdoors when the weather allows. Bundle up and watch the sunset. Simply put: don’t spend the brightest part of the day indoors.

And when it gets dark, resist the urge to light the house like it’s midday. Turn off the overheads. Use lamps closer to eye level. Dim the kitchen after dinner. Light the beeswax candles you’ve been saving for some unspecified occasion. Honor darkness by giving the evening a different quality from the middle of the day.

The vibe is not to recreate life before electricity. Just stop using electricity to erase every sign that night has begun.

HOLD STILL

Summer is very good at movement. Long evenings encourage another drink, another walk, another errand, another conversation about Love Island UK. Fall offers a chance to change the pace.

Not doing “less” but, rather, doing your life differently.

Walk to the farmers market. Choose fewer reps and more weight. Try Yin yoga or Qi Gong. Take the longer route home (and don't exceed the speed limit). Cook something that takes an hour instead of twelve minutes. Sit down to eat it. Light the candles.

Longer, slower efforts suit the inward movement Fall invites.

And there are plenty of ways to practice stillness that have nothing to do with sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Even boredom can be useful. Not every unoccupied ten minutes needs to be filled before you discover what your mind was going to do with it.

And if you must, a middle ground is tending to the home’s role in seasonal stillness:

Move slowly as you take stock of what you have and what you need.

  • Clear the crumbs from the pantry drawers and toss what’s expired
  • Wash and store the coverlets / take out and fluff the duvet
  • Clean the humidifier before you actually need it
  • Put the kettle and tea somewhere easy to reach
  • Move a chair closer to the lamp you actually like reading beside

There’s something both satisfying and clarifying about putting the house in order when the season changes. Not a grand seasonal makeover. Just small adjustments that make the way you actually want to live this fall a little easier.

EXPECT TO FEEL DIFFERENT

Seasonal changes in light can affect sleep, energy, appetite, concentration, and mood. That doesn’t mean everyone experiences fall in the same way, but it does mean noticing a shift isn’t particularly strange.

You may want more sleep. You may feel less social. Your appetite may change. Things that were easy to let slide during summer, suddenly become impossible to ignore.

But remember, through it all, not every uncomfortable feeling needs to be diagnosed. And not every uncomfortable feeling needs to be outrun. Boredom is allowed. So is going to bed early. So is declining something. So is spending Saturday night making soup without turning it into an act of “self-care.”

There is room here for a little discernment. Persistent low mood, significant changes in sleep or appetite, loss of interest in things you normally enjoy, or symptoms that interfere with daily life deserve attention. Seasonal affective disorder is real, and treatment can help. Might we suggest bodywork &/or acupuncture?


MAKE AN EVENING OF IT

Try this: choose an evening and stop fighting nightfall.

Get outside while there’s still daylight. Come home and leave the overhead lights off. Make dinner that requires chopping something. Put music on. Light a candle. Eat sitting down.

Afterward, do one thing slowly. Read. Knit. Stretch. Draw. Take a bath. Call someone. Play cards. Do a crossword. Make something. Sit on the porch until you’re cold enough to come inside.

None of this needs to become a routine, challenge, protocol, or optimized evening practice.

It can just be Tuesday.

Because darkness isn’t an empty space between one useful day and the next. For the next few months, it’s going to occupy a considerable portion of our lives.

Might as well make something of it!