Hello, dusk and darkness.
Hello, dinner time that feels like midnight.
Hello, fading of the year.
“It’s almost stick season,” my daughter pointed out the other day on the way to school. It’s true. The trees are stripping from top down, revealing a sparsity of leaves and more sky opening above.
It took me a long time to appreciate the spareness of November. The sere landscape drained of the late fall color.
It took me a long time to notice the russet tints in the marcescent oak, to appreciate the rustle of those dessicated leaves in the breeze.
It took me a long time to notice how green the pines are, how verdant the moss in the landscape slimmed of color.
And it took me some time (still struggling with this one) to appreciate the earlier darkness, the shorter days1.
“We look up at the changing light, the shortening of days, name what it means, and what we want it to mean for our lives.”
I’m filling the darkness with light and warmth. I’m trading the blue screen of my phone and lap top for candlelight at dinner and firelight after. I’m turning off my devices at dinner time2. And it feels good.
What do you want this time to mean for you, for your life?
I found myself craving slowing down in this season. I want less noise, more connecting and creating. Less scrolling, more noticing and intention.
The idea of shutting down at dinner was so appealing. Could I really do it?3
Ten days in and I’m loving it. Mostly I don’t find myself pulled to get online. Mostly I turn off my laptop and plug my phone in to charge and don’t think about it.
Playing double solitaire with my daughter
Watched my wedding video with my husband in belated celebration of our 20th anniversary and remembered people not with us anymore
Put together three mini puzzles (100 pieces each, so satisfying to finish a puzzle in one sitting)
Journaling
Reading
Listening to music and singing along
Playing cards and laughing with my kids
Cooking — not the harried making of dinner, but finding the rhythm of time in the kitchen
Night walks (well lit)
Letter writing
Full moon hike4
Zine making
Guy Fawkes party
Drinking tea
Using a dictionary to choose a new Word of the Day
This wasn’t the word I picked, but it’s a good one for this season. More puzzles
Picked up a kid from the school and watched the end of an exciting soccer game
Long conversations with my kids
Crossword puzzles
I’m looking forward to more reading and journaling, more games and puzzles, more night walks.
I’m looking forward to a crafting evening around a friend’s big table and making things on my couch. I’m looking forward to projects I do with my hands, especially those that are deeply tactile and repetitive like needlefelting and stampmaking.
I’m looking forward to hot drinks and fire gazing — and maybe almond cake with the grapefruit marmalade I made last winter.
I’m looking forward to going to bed early or at least more ready for sleep.
I am still picking up from practice and making dinner and going to meetings. I’m still busy. It’s not all cozy in front of the fire, but it feels like slowing down. It feels like settling into this season.
Questions for you:
November — love it, hate it, somewhere in between?
What do you want more time for in this season?
What feelings come up with the idea of not being on phone or other devices all evening?
Do you have a favorite weird word I should use as a word of the day?
It does not help that we were plunged too quickly into the earlier darkness with the time change. If you live somewhere without it, I’m jealous. I am grumbly about the spring time change too, but the fall change seems to be more universally disliked.
Thank you to Heather Lanier for this idea that emerged in our conversation in comments on her post on the power of ritual quoted above. When she mentioned that she tries to get off the computer by sunset around the solstice, I felt a ripple of appeal flow through me. Sunset can be so early though and work is on the computer, but dinner, dinner felt doable.
The first thing I did was set parameters because our phones are so many things these days. Could I check my calendar? the weather? that email for the time of an event? Could I call? text? message? I said yes to texting as needed (logistics) and to phone. No to most of the rest of it. Ten days in I have made exceptions once. It turns out I want myself to succeed at this. I want the time off.
I’ve been doing a full moon hike each month this year (maybe more on that later). This month I had a vision of hot cider on the rocky outlook we were heading to, but I didn’t have it in me to make hot cider and find a thermos and get out the door in time. Without even mentioning it, somebody showed up with hot spiced cider and passed around cheese and crackers and salted caramels and nuts. I had an idea, and got to enjoy it without making it happen. Moonlit magic.
No posts
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.