Twice a year Benjamin Franklin messes with us. It was Ben who suggested that we monkey around with the clock a couple of times a year, one step forward, one step back. I’m sure there are good reasons to keep it up, I’m sure there are professions that still find this to be helpful. Farmers probably still dig it, I don’t know.
For me, “falling back” used to be awesome. I got to sleep another hour, who doesn’t like that? I wasn’t a morning person so it was a nice present once a year especially after having that hour taken away only months before in the springtime.
Now, though, my kids have no sense of time. They just open their eyes, bodies fully awake and commence to noisemaking. There is no unconscious extra hour for me right now. It’s felt, since I began to have children, that that extra hour was ruined for me. Instead of an hour of rest it became having to go into work an hour early.
So in light of that I got out of bed when the little human alarm system went off at 6am instead of 7am and I sat in what’s becoming my morning coffee and prayer armchair. From this place I can look out my front door. It’s still noisy in the house, there is no quiet to be found, and yet in this spot I can watch the light.
This is our first autumn and winter in the city house, my first daylight savings time. I was surprised then when for the first time in this house I saw the autumn light working. There was something magical in it as I prayed. I sat there for the few moments I had before having to mediate some breakfast cereal centered disagreement and just drank that in. Maybe I was able to see and feel that because I’m working so much on being present in the moment, maybe it’s because the clock had offered me this extra hour…probably it’s the culmination of both, all things working together for the good.
So, for the first time instead of grousing about not having an extra hour to sleep I felt a strong sense that I have an extra hour to breathe, to live, to watch the light, to read a book, to snuggle with Miles. It was as if the daylight was saving this moment for me. It was astounding. I am grateful. I hope I can hold onto it until the spring.