

Or put them up again, before next November. And guess what? You can do these things with your kids or without them. Just like Christmas lights and decorations are everywhere in December.

It doesn’t need to be Instagram ready, it just needs to be there, something you will see/experience without looking for it. This isn’t about “cherishing” the moment of darkness, though if that's what's for you, great. More metaphorically, set yourself up for moments that bring some light into your day. You know how as the sun sets your eyes adjust gradually and you can end up in a totally dark room without even realizing it? Notice that. I say this as much for myself as for anyone else.

So first option, literally turn on a light. And what a gift that during these dark days we have traditions that train us to add light to our lives. This isn’t some brilliant observation: you already know this isn’t a coincidence. Think about the winter solstice holidays (those we just celebrated in the Northern Hemisphere): many are about creating light during darkness - about light triumphing over dark, candles, lanterns, fire. But I’m suggesting there are moments of light in the middle of the tunnel, and even when we can’t find them, we often have the power to turn on our flashlights. I am not the person who is going to tell you to just look for the good because that’s never been helpful to me. (My favorite parenting “feel good phrase” to complain about is: “the days are long but the years are short” – ask me about the time my 4-year-old effectively called me out on all my complaining about this phrase…) How do we find hope when we’re feeling hopeless? Confidence when we’re feeling defeated? Often in parenting and in life we’re told to “cherish the moment”. So, in our day to day life, how do we find flashlights to turn on when the tunnel starts to feel longer and longer? Whether the tunnel is covid or the tunnel is sleep training or sibling rivalry or getting your child into their car seat each and every morning. What might be in that cave with us? What if we can’t find our way out? But in those dark caves this summer, we had the comfort of knowing all we needed to do if we wanted some light again was to turn on our flashlights! It’s a darkness that it’s hard to find unless you have access to a room with no windows, with no light peeking under the door, with no electronics flashing even the slightest bit. As in, you can’t see anything, like not even in a “waiting for your eyes to adjust” kind of way. Let me tell you something about these caves: once you have climbed down the ladder and ventured a little past the starting point, if you choose to turn off your flashlight or head lamp, it is completely dark. We spent a few hours climbing in, around, and through caves (and one tunnel) carved by lava flowing from a volcano 10,500 to 65,000 years ago. I highly recommend this park: it was not the easiest to get to, but well worth the journey. My family traveled to Lava Beds National Monument this summer. It feels like we’re very much still in the tunnel, and whatever light we thought we saw was a skylight or a waypoint.
