The Necessity of Darkness

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I popped out of bed this morning and thought to myself, boy, it’s really dark outside. Usually I pull the curtains back and there’s at least a tiny bit of light. I’m an early riser, and naturally wake up around 6AM, give or take when I get to sleep.

This morning at 5:56AM, it was so dark that nothing changed when I opened the curtains.

Are you sure we have to get up now?

Why the days feel darker than last month.

If you think it’s still getting darker and darker every day, and you’re an early riser like me, you’re partially right. The sunrise is still getting later and later, even though we’ve passed the winter solstice.

My Grandpa, a weatherman, taught me something cool about this. He always talks about rainfall and cold fronts and ice storms and seems to know what’s happening all across the country—notably because he’s got his television on the weather channel all day long.

He talked about the solstice for a bit, that darkest day of the year, it falls on around December 21st.

“Here’s a little trivia you might not know,” he said. “Do you know when the latest sunrise and the latest sunrise is?”

Do you? I thought they were on the same day: the solstice.

The solstice is the short day — the shortest period of daylight between a sunrise and a sunset.

It turns out the the earliest sunset, time-wise, is the period between December 1 and December 15 for 2015. The sunset occurred these days at 4:29PM (for New York City). Then it begins creeping back outwards: 4:30 for a few days, 4:31, 4:32pm.

The latest sunrise (and likely the hardest time to get out of bed, not counting daylight savings), occurs a few weeks later, between December 30 and January 10, at 7:20AM (also for New York City).

The shortest day happens as these two occurrences shift among each other, with the shortest length of day on December 21st. (If you’re as confused as I was, it’s because the earth is tilted on an axis and it’s “eccentric” according to the charts.) The sun rises later and later as the set gets longer… like a bit of a tango between the start and the end. It’s not perfect.

Why don’t the latest sunrise and earliest sunset happen on the same day?

It turns out that the concept of solar noon is important. This is the time midway between sunrise and sunset, when the sun is at the highest point in the day. The clock we use (24 hours) is not actually perfect with the period of the day (which is sometimes a minute longer than 24 hours), so the time when the sun is highest in the sky changes.

So, two weeks before the solstice, there are earlier sunsets. And two weeks after the solstice, there are later sunrises.

And now, in January, right as we all head back to work, thick off the heaviness of holiday food, tired from sleeping in for a few days — we’re right in the middle of the darkest mornings.

The sun will begin its tilt back up the clock on January 11th, and the sunrises will be back before 7am by February 8th (6:59AM to be precise).

In the western hemisphere, we’re right in the middle of the darkest time, the latest sunrises, the earliest sunsets. Winter is here, the days are getting colder, and we’re about to get colder before we emerge for Spring.

Why we need the darker days:

For me, I find this time a great time to slow down, dwell, think, and re-boot. I love the contemplation, reflection, and introspection that comes from this time of the year. I also know that I have to take better care of myself: it’s harder to exercise when it’s this cold and dark, but if I don’t do it, I’ll feel worse. In the summer it’s easy to want to play. In the winter, I work a bit harder just to show up to my yoga class or go for a walk. I do less, I think more, and I listen.

As Clark Strand writes in Bring On The Dark, the darkness is an opportunity:

“In centuries past, the hours of darkness were a time when no productive work could be done. Which is to say, at night the human impulse to remake the world in our own image — so that it served us, so that we could almost believe the world and its resources existed for us alone — was suspended. The night was the natural corrective to that most persistent of all illusions: that human progress is the reason for the world.”

What are you feeling like this winter? How’s the dance of darkness and depth of winter treating you?

An invitation into the darkness: the value of rumination and notes on finding your own inner guru.

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The darkness of winter: time to turn inwards.

The northern hemisphere is swaddled in darkness, as it is each winter. Today is the longest night of the year; the shortest day. The sun will rise late and quickly dash off, leaving us behind to contemplate the cold, wind, and dreariness of night. Despite the prominence of electric lights and bright screens, and cheery holiday tinsel lining the streets, it’s still dark by early afternoon.

It makes me tired, it makes it harder to work. I struggle to keep going in the afternoon, wanting instead to curl up and hibernate. For many of us, we forget that this is the darkest day of the year. We’ll notice it only through our increased desire for caffeine, a twinge of melancholy, or a lack of motivation. As Clark Strand writes in Bring On the Dark, “few of us will turn off the lights long enough to notice” the winter solstice happening right around us.

“There’s no getting away from the light. There are fluorescent lights and halogen lights, stadium lights, streetlights, stoplights, headlights and billboard lights. There are night lights to stand sentinel in hallways, and the lit screens of cellphones to feed our addiction to information, even in the middle of the night. No wonder we have trouble sleeping. The lights are always on.” — Why We Need The Winter Solstice 

These dark days are a gift: it’s an opportunity to turn inwards, to reflect, and to ponder.

Darkness invites contemplation, reflection, and inner reflection. Dwelling in it can also, for me, bring up deeper sadness and sorrows. It comes in waves, for me, the periods of stillness and rest, of quiet and solitude. Sometimes my mind dips into periods of darkness; I know that I’m deep in restoration and rebuilding. Patterns emerge; ideas begin to form. My other senses sharpen as I rely less on my eyesight.

We’re called to go into the darkness. To find our own inner guru.

When you dim one sense, you brighten the other senses, adding clarity, range, and acuity to your abilities. The ability to feel a range of emotions increases your emotional depth. The upside of darkness, however, is that it is a beautiful time for rumination and reflection.

In yoga, inviting the darkness in is an invitation to find your own inner wisdom, your own inner guru. In studying with Sara Neufeld recently, I learned more about how darkness is an invitation to find your own inner wisdom.

The word “Guru” comes from two words, gu (darkness) and ru (light). From a seat of heaviness or darkness, we go through experiences that bring us to light. One who has experienced both darkness and light has accumulated wisdom. In the yogic tradition, we all are our own gurus — capable of finding our own inner wisdom when we go inwards and close our eyes to contemplate our being.

“The night was the natural corrective to that most persistent of all illusions: that human progress is the reason for the world.” — Clark Strand

Sometimes, finding lightness requires going through the dark. We go not around, but through. The earth spins into darkness every year, so should our souls.