Living in the Dark

A friend checks the latitude of my current home and worries about my psychological state.  How am I handling the dark? she asks.  My reply is both soothing and true: I like living in a cave. I'm taking Vitamin D again to keep the bones happy, but emotionally I love the quality of the light during the day and the excuse it gives me to hibernate at night.

E, my Macclesfield tour guide,  concurs.  Her teaching schedule starts around 3:30, and she likes the fact that it's already dark when she has to go to work of an evening.  In addition,  the sun is always low on the horizon, which means that all daylight is slanted like late afternoon light, and photography is a joy.  Of course, there are fewer hours to exploit, but all 8 of those hours are splendid....when it's not cloudy. 

Macclesfield is at the 53th parallel.  I remember from John Dos Passos that the US is centered on the 42nd parallel.  So, yes, I'm significantly further north.   That means shorter days and brilliant nights. Glasgow will be at 56 degrees, just 10 degrees shy of the Arctic Circle and the northern lights.  Gjoevik will be at the 60th parallel, and since it's in the mountains it will be colder, but again, not in northern lights district. Still, the stars will be awesome (when it's not cloudy!)  And it is just possible, according to my astronomer friend E, that the magnetic storms will show up, even south of the Arctic Circle.  It's all luck and guesswork, as Paul Hollywood discovered when he filmed in Iceland for City Bakes.  He missed out, at least when he was on camera.

The interesting thing to me is how the locals react to all of it. My Glasgow host hates the dark, but she's an ex-pat.  For the rest, the darkness is just what happens in the winter.  A tendency towards alcoholism is not limited to the northern climes, and as for the northern lights, only the astronomers and tourists seem to care.  Paul asked a host, and the host said, well, it's common enough that we just tend to ignore it.  IGNORE IT?!  Ignore the sky weaving skeins of color and light?  It's incomprehensible, but then again, it's also incomprehensible that one can live in Portland and never go hiking in the Gorge.   I guess it's a matter of priorities and lifestyle. Every place has its unique beauties, but most of us have to focus on making a living.  Even a nomad  like me cannot spend every day reveling in wonders.  With repetition the wonderful becomes commonplace, and the human brain tends to focus on the small irritations or great traumas anyway. 

In fact, one cannot spend every moment having one's breath taken away.  Physiologically, that's death.  Emotionally, it might be too.  A capacity for wonder is all very well, but it's also good to trust the autonomic systems and just live.  Even as I type, I'm surrounded by miracles.  I have the capacity to feel the cold.   My fingers are just the slightest bit clumsy on the keyboard and the tip of my nose is chilled. I am listening to jazz with the miracle that is my auditory nervous system, through the man-made miracle that is electronic sound.   But focusing on these things means that I am not writing or thinking (and the capacity to do those two things is also a miracle.) 

Common wisdom says it's all about choice, about living in the moment, but I'm not so sure.  Do I really choose to notice the cold?  I think I choose to go outside and look at the stars, and I believe I choose to travel, but do I really?  Or does the cold say "notice me!" and do the stars call to me? and does travel sweep me away as I step through my life?  I don't know.

I'm actually ambivalent about the dark. I say that I like it, but I also know it has negative affects. I do recognize that Seasonal Affective Disorder is a thing in our society, probably because our culture doesn't allow for hibernation.  I like to hibernate, so I don't think I have SAD.  On the other hand, I do revel in the light of New Mexico.  I think my tendency to lethargy and depression was curbed when I lived there.  Right now I'm counting up my antidepressants, as well as taking Vitamin D.  I was unable to replenish them in the States, so I'm down to 28 to last me for 90 days or so.  We'll see if I can manage by taking them every three days.  This is where I'll find out if I really DO like to live in the dark.