The hours of darkness bring presence

What do you do if there is a power cut when you are at home in the evening?

As a child I used to love power cuts. I thought they didn't happen often enough and that they were way too short.

When all goes quiet and dark at once, and everyone submits to this different space.

What do we do if all distractions are gone, candles get out and the family sits together around the only source of light?

A different space opens up where we pay more attention to the people in our company, and to ourselves. We end up spending time together rather than just next to each other. We talk, joke, sing, make jokes, maybe get out a musical instrument too. Or just rest. Or spend time with our own thoughts, feelings, with ourselves. Whatever it is that we do, we are there, we are more present.

Are we brave enough to create our own power cuts for a better quality of life or do we think we don't have a choice?

Nowadays it might take a trip to the yoga studio to get anywhere close to this space. To re-learn and get used to how it feels to simply BE rather then always having to DO something. But this space is actually always there, freely available for all of us.

This interesting article on The Washington Post reminded me of those evenings as a child.

"Once, long ago, before our billion-watt culture got the best of us, there was an hour in the middle of the night where peace was there for the having — not as the result of assiduous practice over many years of spiritual practice but as a nightly blessing that nobody had to work for. It’s still there. It always has been. Finding it again is as simple — or as difficult — as turning out the lights."

(from the article "Want to enjoy the deep, mystical sleep of our ancestors? Turn your lights off at dusk." by Clark Strand)