Darkness is Near
It’s fall. Autumn. Harvest time. I love me some So-Cal weather, but I have to say that I do miss fall in the Mid-West. The leaves change from rich greens to a myriad of golds and reds. There are only a couple weeks there where the weather is perfect; the air turns crisp, there’s not a cloud in the sky. There’s just something about this season that makes me want to wear mittens and drink hot apple cider by an outdoor fire as I watch the last rays of the sun peak over a tree-filled horizon.
But alas, here in good old San Diego that is simply not meant to be. I’ve traded deciduous trees for palms, crisp air for balmy, rolling hills for crashing waves; am I really gonna complain about that? Nope, but I do enjoy reminiscing. However, one thing about fall is the same just about anywhere you go in America; Daylight Savings Time.
This weekend we gain an hour of sleep on Saturday night. While I’m thoroughly going to enjoy staying snuggled under the covers for an extra hour for that one precious night, I know that each year the early sunsets throw me off. Darkness so soon in the evening presents a challenge for my light-loving personality. Staying motivated in the evening becomes increasingly difficult for me as the sun sets earlier and earlier. Each year I find myself envying bears. Why can’t I just eat a bunch of food, sleep for a few months, and re-awaken when the sun stays up for longer? Sounds like a great plan to me!
But alas, instead I find my way to my mat. I love hot yoga any time of the year, but once the weather starts to get chilly here (let’s be honest. . .it never TRULY gets cold!), there’s something comforting about walking into a heated room. Surrounded by other yogis who are settling into their spaces, saying their hellos and exchanging hugs. It keeps me inspired. Keeps me grounded. As I flow through my practice I breathe in the warmth, feel the sweat on my skin, feel the heat in my bones. Each time I leave with a new sense of connection and gratitude. It is that feeling that keeps me coming back; even when it’s dark, even when I’m tired, even when the couch and a good book are calling to me.
So to the early darkness I say “Thank you!” Thanks for pushing me, for making me dig a little deeper within myself to find that extra energy, and for reminding me that without the long nights, I might not realize just how precious the extended days of summer truly are.