Night

The things of the night cannot be explained in the day, because they do not then exist. -Ernest Hemingway

There is this thing that I struggle with often. I am impatient with ongoing struggles, I just don't understand why I can't fix a problem if it seems to be within my power to do so. Even if the solution doesn't work, the trying creates positivity and energy that gives me the illusion of control. I am, for the most part, very good at identifying a problem, dissecting it, researching causes and solutions, asking for help when I need it, coming up with remedies, and implementing the best resolution. I do it in my career, I do it in my life. I am a natural born problem-solver. There is this one obstacle, though, that has its hooks in me, and whatever approach I use, I can't seem to figure it out. Sleep. I just don't sleep.

When we lay our heads down at the end of the day, it's the chance to let our bodies and thoughts rest. This is when cells repair themselves, and the heart and breathing slow to conserve energy for the next day. That long stretch when we don't eat lets our digestive system reset itself, and all the framework of muscles and tissue relax their hold on the highway of nerves that send the information to our brains. But sometimes, the brain won't rest. In the quiet of the dark, it has the chance to think about all that the rush of the busy day didn't allow. it tries to solve the unsolvable, recount the day's conversations and needlessly worries about the future. It is maddening. So, what does all of this have to do with getting outside?

Whenever possible, I take a walk late in the evening. Sometimes it's on the beach, sometimes it's just around my neighborhood. When I am not running on fumes from the lack of sleep the previous night, I even like to get in the car and drive to someplace new to explore it's nighttime personality. The darker the night is, the better. The only light allowed in my perfect night walk is the moon and stars. It is amazing the way the world quiets all of its human sounds at night, but amplifies the sounds of nature. Insects that only call to their mates in the dark. Animals that hunt, protected from the sight of their prey. The way the wind in the darkness sounds louder and the echos seem deeper when there are no other sounds to hide them. It is a completely different experience than exploring nature during the day. I love the way my eyes strain and then adjust to the darkness, and because all of the senses are focusing on my surroundings, my mind wraps itself around the basic, tangible task of walking and appreciating. And nothing else. It's as if the process of walking outside in the night literally clears my mind. Those are the nights that I sleep.

So, maybe the failure to get a good night's sleep isn't really a failure at all. Maybe it's purpose is to wear me down, physically, mentally, emotionally so that I can see what matters and what doesn't. What needs solving and what needs to be left alone for another day. To remind me that it's not all as complicated as I make it out to be. Getting outdoors has a way of doing that. Note to self: go outside...then, go get some sleep.