When the world gets dark, I tend to go
the way of a crocus. I close up. Hide out. Sign off.
This natural behavior in plants is called nyctinasty. Scientists provide many explanations for why certain plants do this. I know why I do it.
The
world can be a scary place. People freak me out on a regular basis. Not just
the mass murderers, but even people on the road or those yelling hateful slurs
at others in grocery stores. The last two docuseries I’ve watched remind me
just how disturbing it can get out there. Two men sharing their account of
being deceived as children. Another child taken in the night.
See,
the thing with me is that I feel things deeply. Since I was little I’ve had a
tendency to absorb, imagine, and empathize to the point of anguish. I never knew
quite what to do when I witnessed others in pain. I quickly began to feel it. I
remember there was a boy in my school who had a sibling with cancer. When other
girls my age probably fantasized about kissing this boy, my thoughts tangled up
with how I could help, how I can ease his pain. It’s always been like this for
me. And I’ll be the first one to admit, it’s a little awkward to be like this. I
eventually figured out I could stuff a lot of emotion in my stories—my characters.
That resolved some of the empathy overflow.
But
I still anguish for others. I grieve the current condition of the world. I
grieve how it’s always been.
So,
for self-protection, restoration, and a way to channel and/or preserve my
resources, I close down sometimes when the world gets dark. I nyctinasty. Only
for a little while though. Because I’ve also learned the great value of
remaining open to the light.
*Miss
you, Dad.
