Sit Spot, Day 22

Staying at my father's tonight, in the mountains. Sat out at night.

The only other time I've done my sit here, I sat just outside the cabin door the whole time, both eager and fearful at the prospect of hearing the wildlife I knew must be all about me. I was on hyper-alert, not relaxed but certainly tuned in to my senses. I remember noticing the dark trees overhead against the night sky, and how shadowless and obscured the forest seemed. And indeed, at the tiniest rustling in the grasses near my feet - a small rodent, to be sure - I flew inside, heart beating quickly. I was shocked and embarrassed at how frightened I was, but the fear of the unknown was strong in me, no matter how I wanted myself to feel.

Tonight, I moved instinctively away from the lights at the cabin, wanting my eyes to become better adjusted to the darkness, and wanting to distance myself from the lights I figured would make animals wary. I sat quietly in the driveway, opening up to the night, the lovely darkness, shadowless tonight as on that night. I shortly heard the same rustling in the grasses, and silently greeted the little being going about its night work. More rustling in other areas, and I felt comforted in knowing I had more company in the night. The gift of these sits over the past few weeks have been many, and tonight showed me just how strong and precious are the lessons that have come into my life through this routine: they've moved me from fear to welcome greeting of the noises in the night.

I had the same feeling tonight as last night: complete comfort in the nighttime, so much so that I wanted to stay out all night and sleep under the dark sky, surrounded by the creatures and plants and Earth.