Darkness

Last night, for the first time, I welcomed the darkness.

I welcomed the absence of light and sound. I could only see the faint glow of light floating through the bedroom door from our sliding glass door. It wasn't even enough to let me see my hand.

No one was speaking, not the TV or my cell phone or my husband. There was nothing vying for the attention of my eyes or ears. It was simply dark, and for once, the dark was comforting.

My mind moved slowly from thought to thought, with no purpose or intention, other than to think. No concentration was required to accomplish any task. It felt as if my mind was relaxing from a long workout that had left it tight and cramped. And finally it had the chance to unwind.

I'm beginning to wonder if the invention of electricity, which allows us to continue our work long past sunset, isn't abused in my home.

The absence of light isn't intended to cause fear, as it often has for me. Fear of the unknown, fear of what wasn't accomplished during the daylight, fear of imaginary monsters.

Maybe the darkness caused by the setting sun is meant to signal a time to stop what you're doing, stop concentrating, stop accomplishing, stop planning, stop worrying, just stop. And unwind, relax, find comfort in the darkness.

Just some thoughts.