More Light

And some thoughts on how important light is in transitional times

Today is the first day of daylight savings time (like it or not), the day where we wind our clocks back an hour to enjoy more morning light. Of course, that light has to be stolen from somewhere else, and as I write this, at roughly 4:30 in the afternoon, it’s already starting to get darker. Darker than it was yesterday at this time, that’s for sure. And it all got me thinking about how important light is—not just photographers, but for almost all living things.

Yesterday was one of those days that I have every now and then when I just couldn’t seem to motivate to get up off the couch. If it weren’t for the fact that I had to take my dog to his grooming appointment (and pick him up from said appointment a few hours later), I wouldn’t have left the house at all—even though I knew I should. Even though I knew I needed to. So I made a deal with myself—if I walked when I got the dog safely back home, I could enjoy a second leftover Halloween treat, guilt-free, after dinner. Since I am very highly food motivated, a deal was struck, and I went for a walk around my neighborhood.

Just look at the way the sun was illuminating the clouds from within! Had a stayed at home like my brain wanted to, I would have missed this spectacle of gratuitous color and shadow. And look—look at the way the low-hanging sun was shining on this house:

I ask you! It’s almost too much. Sometimes, when I’m feeling low, I force myself to go for a walk and marvel at the ordinary beauty that is right outside the front door. It never fails to make me feel better. Not 100% better, mind you, but at least it gets me out of my head and into a space of gratitude for being here, now, in this place, at this time. It helps me to appreciate that my body still (mostly) works, and that there is beauty everywhere (everywhere!) if only I will stop and pay attention.

I don’t want to sound too pollyanna about any of this. I can go to some really dark places in my head, and often do. I have people in my family who suffer mightily from depression, and I’m not naive enough to think that it’s a choice, much like diabetes or cancer are not choices. I very well understand the pull of wanting to stay indoors, in the dark, all day long, feeling as if I don’t deserve to see the light—depriving myself of the one thing that I know might help. But yesterday—yesterday I was able to bribe myself up off of the couch, and as a reward, I got to see this:

In my own back yard, I got to see this:

These are the days in which we transition from autumn to winter. Soon, the trees will be stripped bare by the relentless wind and rain, yet the official start of winter is many weeks away. During this transitional time, the darkness comes earlier and earlier each day, and stays longer and longer. And the truth is, I love the dark days. I love the excuse the weather provides to stay indoors and insulate, isolate, contract into myself. I much prefer the dark to the blaring, broiling light that summer brings—the relentless summer light! I need to work to find the balance during these transitional times—to get outside to get the light I need without giving up all of the reasons that I love to stay in.

Most of the time, my brain has a hard time relaxing. It’s a struggle for me to sit down in the middle of the day on a Saturday or Sunday and read a book, or watch a movie. Part of this comes from being in academia for so long, where one’s worth is judged by how productive they are. “Shouldn’t you be working on XYZ?” my brain will ask. And when it answers, it always says, “Yes, yes I should.” Being still is difficult.

Currently, I am trying to change my daily habits to include more time for stillness and working on the things I want to work on (writing, working on my photos, exercising more). By trying, I really mean “thinking about.” I have changed nothing yet. Habits are so very, very hard to break! I have a neighbor who is is a bona fide genius, and also an insomniac. The other day, I had to let the dog out at 4:00 a.m., and there was my neighbor, out in his little studio outbuilding in his back yard, at his keyboard working away. Sometimes he is practicing his viola. Regardless of what he is doing, he is always out in his studio, working. I want more of that—more of that structure and self-discipline. I feel sick to my stomach when my phone alerts me to the amount of screen time I wrack up each day—what a waste! But like I said, habits are hard to change. It’s dark outside. I want to isolate. I don’t want the light. Only I do.

I guess what I am trying to say is that this is the time of year when I need to be more intentional about what I know is good for me. I need to put the phone down, step outside and let the light in. I need to walk by the water and see the tiny sailboats doing their thing, and be glad that they are, and that I can see them.

One final note on transitions. I noticed that a house a few blocks away from me—famous for its Halloween decor—has now transitioned to Christmas, but in a subtle (and very humorous way). I need more of this. More humor, more movement, more light. Always more light (because I need it, even if I think I don’t).

I made a companion video of my walk using a new toy I just got—the Camp Snap 8 super 8 camera. SO MUCH FUN! I can’t wait to play around with it in the weeks to come. Stay tuned…