Change of plans

Wednesday night I’d planned to be alone. Alone. An introvert at heart, I crave this solitude at times to recharge my batteries, to let my mind wander, to stare out the window without an agenda. Unlike so many of my extrovert friends, I look forward to these times when my goal is NOT to fill the time. “Make the most of life”, “live every moment” we’re told and it’s a hurdle for an introverted soul to come to terms with these notions, to be kind to oneself and indulge in the spaciousness of aloneness and be ok about it.

So I went through my day Wednesday anticipating the open evening ahead. On my way to a 4:00 appointment I heard a story on the radio about that evening’s meteor showers–a veritable fireworks display peaking at 3am. I let my mind wander to where one might view this spectacle–a place with little “light pollution”, a place with open space for the eyes to adjust to the darkness and roam the skies for magic streaks of light. I immediately thought of my 89 year old mom’s home along Lake Michigan. Cozy and snuggled behind a dune, it’s only a short walk to the shore through grass and sand and a night so dark when the moon is quiet. So I gave her a call.

“Want to have an adventure tonight, mom?” “With you, anytime!” she replied. So I dropped everything including my plan for an evening alone and drove the two hours to her house. After a quiet evening, some conversation and dinner we went to bed, setting our alarms for 2:45am. In only a moment, it seemed, the alarm sounded and I nudged my mom.

The night was dark alright, and the sky glowed with millions of stars. Holding hands we carefully made our way to the bench by the lake and wiped the dew off of the seat. The world is a different place at 3am. Cool night air moved across our skin. Hummingbirds were asleep in hidden nests while bats swooped playfully above our heads. The great lake that had just that afternoon delivered powerful waves, gently lapped with barely a sound. Settling in, we let our eyes adjust to the blackness of the sky, the brilliance of the stars. “There’s one!” she said quietly…and another and another. In low tones we talked about memories and friends and beauty. We sat in silence in our own world within a world, giving ourselves over to the night. We gazed and gasped at the display above our heads. Alone, together we recharged our batteries, we let our minds wander, we stared at the sky. And I thought of my morning’s pledge to myself, considering the aloneness I’d left for the togetherness I’d gained. This sense of being alone together, cloaked in the blackness of the night and the wonder of the skies felt whole somehow, as though wrapping us in itself. And alone, together, small but mighty, we sat on a tiny bench, on a spinning world, hurtling through space and the dust from the tail of a comet.