REFLECTIONS
It's 6:11am, and my achey 50-year-old hips and an internal clock that equates the twilight hour with reflection and solitude have stirred me awake. Bob's sleeping, and I didn't think to pack my tiny reading light.
Solitude
It's as good of a time as any to compose this newsletter, with the dim glow of my laptop offering just enough light to watch my words emerge. It will do. This dark pre-dawn hour offers my spirit solitude and refuge — priceless gifts I wouldn't trade for anything.
The one-room Vrbo we're renting is situated in a forested gulch, where telephone-pole straight redwoods extend seemingly forever into the sky. These aren't the ancient redwoods you'll find six hours north in Humboldt County, but if you're not using the latter as your point of reference, these trees are pretty fucking big.
Where we're at, the sky disappears and darkness continues amidst the redwoods' canopies that barely begin 50 feet upward. And so, there is no watercolor sunrise — just the expectation that sunbeams will penetrate their mass of branches an hour or two later.
So besides breaking out my laptop, there's not much to do here sans lantern, sans sunlight, while my partner sleeps. Which isn't an unwelcome thing, given my penchant for morning darkness.
Darkness
Because darkness offers something that light rarely does: a cracked open door to the otherworld, and a beckoning to explore my hidden bits.
Well, as long as I'm not distracting myself with my phone, which (thankfully) is rarely an issue for me these days.
In the new morning's darkness — when I haven't yet been inundated by the day's news (usually of the US President's latest fuckery), capitalism's dehumanizing expectations, and short-lived dopamine hits, I'm left with just myself.
Remembering who I am
This is occasionally uncomfortable — stillness often is — yet it offers me opportunities to know myself better. To remember who I am. To change the course of my life when destiny calls.
At least that's been my experience.
I invite you to see if it might be yours as well.
Circling back to you
I have one reflection opportunity for you, offered in one of two ways.
#1 — If you can readily awaken in the darkness
I invite you to commit to not checking your phone (or other screens) for the next 30 minutes or so.
If you like, you can begin by preparing a warm beverage that feels nourishing to your soul. All the better if you can ritualize its preparation. And please do it with the least amount of artificial light that you can get away with (safely, of course).
For example, I prep my moka pot or fill my tea kettle by either lantern light or the soft LED light rising from the stairwell.
With soul-nourishing beverage, journal, and pen in hand, find a spot in darkness save for just enough light to write. For me, this entails a lantern. For you, it might entail a tiny reading light or a couple of lit candles.
Take a few moments to settle in. If your brain's already feeling restless — and it may be! — promise it that this won't take long.
And then, simply ask yourself this: What do YOU want me to know?
Now, pick up your pen and start writing. Don't think. Just let words flow from your pen. If this feels foreign or if you immediately feel stuck, try starting with something like:
My Child,
My Love,
Dearest [your name],
This is one of my favorite ways to channel my inner knowing. Sometimes, I'll have a conversation with her; other times, I'll just be present to whatever she has for me. [Btw, I've personalized my inner knowing, referring to her as La Que Sabe, The One Who Knows in a nod to Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes — the brilliant author of Women Who Run with the Wolves).
The question: What do YOU want me to know? can be changed to anything you'd like. But beauty lies in simplicity, and when I don't force a direction, the responses I channel are often pretty insightful.
And if this exercise doesn' do it for you, consider pulling a tarot or oracle card instead. And just sitting with it, in the quiet dark, without agenda...
#2 — If you are a night owl
In the night's darkness — after you've wrapped up your day's responsibilities — I invite you to prepare your phone for bed and commit to not touching it again until morning.
Next, I invite you to take a shower or bath in darkness save for candlelight. Intentionally wash the energies of the day away and watch them spiral around the drain.
Once you've finished, spend some time nourishing your spirit and body as you prepare for bed. Maybe brew a mug of herbal tea. Assemble your journal, a pen, and a dim light source in a location where you won't be disturbed for maybe 20 minutes.
Then proceed with the prompt offered in Path #1.
That is all.
Hi! I’m Kristi.
I help humans — mostly sisters & genderqueer kin — reject capitalism’s self-blaming narrative, center joy and creativity, and navigate hard things in hard times. Click here to learn more.
A note on AI: despite my love for em dashes, I promise you that I do not use generative AI to organize, write, or edit my posts…or anything else. I encourage you to read my AI Policy to learn more about how and why I don’t use generative AI.
