For the last few days I have been on retreat in northern Minnesota at a lovely
center called Dwelling in the Woods. It is tucked away, down country roads, some
paved, others now hard, gravelly surfaces. As I drove here snow spit from the
sky making little dancing waves of white in the spill of my headlights. I
arrived at dusk and settled into my hermitage, one of those small, cozy places
that causes me to beg the question, what do we really need with such large
living spaces? The simplicity, the attention to beauty is all around in my
space, aptly named, The Loft, because in order to make my way to my bed, I have
to climb a small winding staircase to the angled-eaved space above. The tiny
kitchen has everything needed for a simple, hearty meal. A wood burning stove
is already laid for novice fire-builders…that would be me.
weary from a full day. Walking toward my hermitage, I was not prepared for how
dark it would be without any of the city lights that normally accompany me
everywhere. It seemed unbelievably dark even with a flashlight. As I turned off
the lights to go to sleep, I was plunged into total darkness. I thought of all
the people throughout time who had gone to sleep in just such darkness. I
thought of all those who have this experience even now in places where
electricity is still a luxury. Enveloped by the deep darkness I fell asleep
with little difficulty and rested in a way that is unfamiliar.
A friend told me last week about a collective of people who
are dedicated to helping people find the darkness they feel is important for
all people to live healthy, whole lives. It sounded like such an odd concept.
Who are these people? And yet last evening, as I tucked myself into my little
bed and was plunged into just such darkness, I had a glimmer of understanding.
I wonder if all people might sleep better in this kind of darkness and would
awaken more ready to face the daylight.
"Abide with me. Fast falls the eventide;The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide; When other helpers fail and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me." Henry Francis Lyte