What the Dark Does

Something happens in the dark that cannot happen in quite the same way in daylight.

Our bodies evolved in relationship with the turning of light and darkness, and that old rhythm still lives within us.

Morning light helps signal wakefulness. As evening gathers and light diminishes, the biological processes involved in preparing for sleep begin to change.

Then we disappear into sleep, and the body gets on with its night work.

Memory is consolidated. Tissues repair. Immune and metabolic processes continue their quiet labour. During sleep, the brain's glymphatic system also becomes more active, helping clear metabolic waste accumulated through waking life.

Darkness is not empty time.

And yet sleep can become more elusive through the menopause transition. Changing hormones, temperature regulation, night sweats, anxiety and the accumulated demands of life can disturb a rhythm that once came more easily.

Perhaps this is why the language of “sleep hygiene” has always felt rather inadequate.

Sleep is not a cleanliness problem.

Nor can the body always be commanded into unconsciousness because the clock says it is time.

Sometimes we need to create the conditions for descent.

Morning daylight. Movement during the day. Less artificial light and stimulation as evening gathers. A genuinely dark room. A small repeated ritual that tells the body the day is ending.

Nothing elaborate.

Just a gradual return towards night.

The natural world understands this rhythm intimately.

It expands and contracts. Blooms and retreats. Works above ground and below it. Winter can look empty while an enormous amount of unseen life continues underneath.

We belong to that world too.

We cannot remain in daylight forever.

There is work that only the dark can do.