The night feels softer to me.
I mean, let’s face it: the day has a job to do. It moves fast. It asks for answers, decisions, replies, presence. Even when I try to be calm, the day has its own momentum. It pulls.
But the night… the night is different.
The night gives me space to hear my own thoughts again - unless a neighbour decides to blast their favourite tunes and their 90’s playlist pierces through the silence.
For me, it’s that deep, dark, depth of unknown.
It is the time when I stop “performing” productivity and just sit with myself for a bit. I must confess: think more honestly at night. Somehow, I remember more at night too. Things I brushed past during the day (or months ago) have a way of returning when everything is quiet.
Sometimes it is reflection. Sometimes it is gratitude. Sometimes it is a little sadness. Ahh, but even that feels gentler at night.
Sigh, there is less pressure to be everything for everyone.
I can just be.
I think that is the real difference for me.
Yes!
The day belongs to responsibility.
The night belongs to truth.
And maybe that is why I have always loved it.
It asks less from me, and somehow gives more back.
The day is for doing.
The night is for understanding.
