Chasing Twilight: Finding Peace in the Half-Light

There is very little that happens that is meaningful in life that doesn’t involve effort, focus and persistence. The challenge and the stress of making a life filled with meaning, stability and depth is not easy. But we do it. Millions of people do it. But with all of the weight of the day to day and all of the endless plates of obligation we must continue to spin, we need ways to manage the stress and the strain, find balance and build that life. Every day we need to find moments that work to center and ground us in the onslaught of the needs of kids, career, going, doing, pushing, being in service—making a life filled with meaning. So what are those moments? 

It is clear to me now that there are really only two moments in each day when the natural light of the day opens up and invites us in for a moment of peace: dawn and twilight. The morning light at sunrise when the birds are waking up and the first rays of sun emerge over the horizon line is a pure moment of awakening when the noise and chaos of the day has yet to stir. But for most of us, that moment remains unseen and unfelt because it requires that we are awake at a very early hour. But twilight—that moment of the day as the sun is setting and all of the motion and churn of the day is settling—twilight is a room with a view that is accessible to all of us. It doesn’t require an early wake up call. It simply requires us to be present as the sun is setting and the day is ending.

For me, there are so many magical places that allow us to experience twilight in its purest form: the mountains, the beach, a river. The backdrop of an inspirational natural setting at twilight is sublime. My choice—in my day to day life that I can always access—is my local golf course, Shadow Hills. When twilight rolls around, there are few places more peaceful for me than a golf course. As the last rays of the sun stream through the trees, the long shadows forming on the green grass, the birds chirping and singing their end of day song, the sounds of the wind in the trees and of course the drone of the twilight airplane above. These are the sounds that bring me to a place of deep, grounded presence. I am no place else mentally. There is no other place I would rather be. 

So here is the question: why twilight? Why is this moment of the day so special? Of course the quality of light is sublime. But what is it about this time of day that creates that magic? And why has it always been seen in many cultures as a liminal time of deep reflection?

The word “twilight” has its origins in Middle English “twi-licht” which is a reference to “half-light.” It is no longer full daylight, but not yet dark. This half light is a threshold moment. It is a time when we are losing the light of the day and we must embrace the inevitable, ensuing darkness. Twilight is the time of day when we typically have done most of  the “doing” of the day and it signals the beginning of the retreating inward. This is an “in-between” space where we can pause and reflect on the day. It is why watching the sunset is such a timeless act. We stop and for a moment we are fully present with a universal cycle that is so much bigger than us or our lives or the problems we face. For a moment, we can feel our place in the cosmos as the eyes of the world, bearing witness to all the beauty of this planet. Twilight is a profound moment that simply calls us to be present and listen. 

Here’s an easy call to action: Next opportunity, find your favorite spot for twilight, and be fully present for the last few rays of light. Engage all your awareness and gratitude in that moment and ask yourself one very simple question: If I could change one aspect of how I am regularly spending my time what would I change? With the energy of twilight, you stand a much better chance of really tapping into an honest moment of self-awareness. 

And here’s one of my favorite pieces of poetry by W.B. Yeats that captures the magic of light and the magic of the natural order of things. I wrote a paper when I was at UCLA about this poem, and it has always been a gem that I really loved. It captures that pure moment—a timeless moment—that we can hold as a touchstone for an expansive mindset. How do we cultivate that feeling even in the “roadway, or on the pavements grey?” 

The Lake Isle of Innisfree

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,

And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;

Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,

And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,

Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;

There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,

And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,

I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

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Have a great week.

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