Wednesday, May 20, 2015

the interplay between light and dark.

As a child I was terribly afraid of the dark. I don't think anyone knew because I felt stupid being so afraid. Once night fell, I would walk from room to room by light switch as though I was a frog hopping across a pond on lily pads. I had a light clipped to the headboard of my bed that I claimed to use for reading -I did read before bed-, but I liked that it continued to shower me with light despite it being night.

Still, as an adult, I find myself on edge in the blurry veil of darkness. My adrenaline seems to climb to an edging on fear level and my pores seem to spike with attentiveness. But, I've also come to treasure the beauty of the transitions: dusk and dawn.

There's something about the pre-dawn light that's charming. It's soft and friendly, floating in like steam thick atop the cold morning air. It's a daily reminder that night has passed, the sun is here again, and another day dawns. It's the same moon and the same sun doing the same dance, but the day is new and promising.

And in the daylight, there are shadows. In the newness, a remembrance of what belong to yesterday. The light is only beloved because darkness falls. The good special because bad happens. The kind cherished because mean exists.

This much is true about life: it takes dark and light to make the shadows so beautiful.


  1. I might still do the leap frog light thing when I walk from my living room to my bedroom. (Which is weird because what nefarious thing do I think appeared in the living room 4 seconds after I walked out?) I guess if it made sense it wouldn't be scary right?

  2. Love this. Such beautiful writing and truth.

  3. ......I'm still afraid of the dark. That's okay at 26, totally normal, right?

  4. Totally normal. It's the same way I feel about being alone. I'm an introvert and I love time by myself, but I also fear it. When my husband isn't home I get a little on edge and scope out things that could be used to defend myself, but eventually I relax and enjoy the quiet solitude :)

  5. Girl, I hear you. I totally hear you. And it's so funny that it sort of becomes and instinctual way to move from one room to another (even as adults!).

  6. Totally normal. I'm fine at home but when it's time to run and we're using headlamps and I can only see so far in front of me I panic.

  7. YESSSS. I do the same thing, especially because Hazel usually just snores asleep on the couch but then when Jason is gone she smells and wanders and gets sort of restless and then I go on edge with her! :)


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