The Magic of the Night

I had lunch with a friend recently to discuss a possible business opportunity. She led the discussion by telling me that she didn’t think it would be a good fit for me, because “you like to sleep in.” She is a good friend, and she said it with no judgment or criticism. Yet somehow, it rankled. She used the phrase twice in our conversation:

“You like to sleep in.”

Well, yes, I do. I do not try to hide that. I think sleep is very important, and I would like everyone to be able to sleep as long as their body lets them, until it naturally wakes up. For years, my best sleep has been in the mornings. If for some reason I am awake at sunrise, it is the sun peeking over the horizon that sends me into the deepest, most dream filled, nourishing sleep.

But there is another side to this. I stay up late because the night is a magical time for me. It is the womb of creative potential, full of a different kind of energy that is always there but can be so much more easily perceived in the darkness and solitude of night. As a writer, and a crafter, my most fertile time is often the night. If I am not actively creating at this time, it is when the ideas take root and grow.

I first remember discovering the magic of nighttime when I was seven years old.  We had just moved to an old, 16 room Victorian house in the suburbs of Boston, Massachusetts. My sisters and I each had our own room; mine overlooked the driveway and had a flat roof outside the window which overhung the front door. There was only one house visible from ours, through a massive, densely foliaged chestnut tree. The rest of our house was surrounded by enough tree-filled land that no roads or other houses were visible.

I had chronic insomnia between the ages of seven and puberty. With hindsight, I was just going to bed too early, and did not need as much sleep as convention dictated.  But for years, I would find myself wide awake in the middle of the night. In warm weather, I would climb out my window and pace back and forth on the flat roof, in my pink nightdress. It was more like a leisurely stroll, back and forth. As all night people know, the night is not very dark. I could see the outlines of the trees against the night sky. I felt the soft night air caress me, cooler than the daytime, but still plenty warm enough to be comfortable. There was almost always a slight breeze. The whisper of the leaves was a soothing symphony, so much more audible than in daytime.

I felt deep peace and contentment at these times. The world seemed full of unrealized possibility. But also, there was a tingle of excitement. What secrets would be revealed to me when most of the world was asleep?

Another wonderful nighttime memory is from one of the many sleepovers I had with my two best friends, Abigail and Maria. The sleepovers alternated between my house and Abigail’s, who also lived in a large old house surrounded by trees. We never slept at Maria’s, which was irrelevant because the three of us were a fast trio. We really pushed the envelope at these sleepovers. The main objective was to stay up the entire night, eating decadent snacks we had brought in (usually candy), and talking about everything. On one sleepover at Abigail’s, we decided to go for a walk outside in the pitch dark. She, too, had a long driveway, which tapered off into dense trees before eventually reaching the road. Maria got frightened quickly and went back inside. Abigail lasted longer, but I could not be stopped. The trees were alive. Unlike my nighttime perambulations on the roof, I had access to the teeming life on the earth’s floor. Was I seeing elemental creatures? Sensing them? Perhaps. But the earth was vibrantly alive, and I was filled with wonder and excitement. I felt like I was a part of a secret universe, full of promise and potential.

So yes, I do like to sleep in. Until the night loses its magic, I will continue to do so. I feel so grateful to be able to access this alternate world.