
This is a picture of the light pollution that can be seen in Western Europe every night from space. Is it any wonder that we fail to see the stars over our heads any more? Even though I live in the Alps, (the Eastern edge of France towards Italy), I still live within a fluorescent yellow country. Even though I can look out of my window right now and see the stars at night like I have never done before, I live with this imagined yellow pervading all my darknesses.

Here is North America. Seems that most parts have also suffered the same fate.
But it is not just about not seeing stars in the sky at night, it is also about a whole shift of habits we, in the modern world, have undergone. we have pushed the darkness out - conquered it. Shopping at four in the morning, surfing the internet all night, driving through blazingly-lit streets, leaving the lights and t.v. on, even when we sleep.
I read recently that it is wise for women to follow the cycle of the moon in the sky if they want to live a life with a naturally fertile and regular menstrual cycle. This means sleeping in total and utter darkness every night, except for the three nights around the full moon, when a light may be left on to simulate moonshine coming through the window - or even better - actually letting the moonshine come in through the window. A regular menstrual cycle will kick-in gradually if darkness and light are made to mirror the moon’s cycle exactly. Women rarely show an absolute 28 day cycle as it is commonly believed; if given the right lighting conditions, they will follow the moon’s month; which is slightly longer. For young girls about to begin menstruation, I believe it is the moon’s cycle that triggers regularity right from the beginning.
For younger children, who want to grow up with normal vision, this dark/light practise is also a must.
Small children and babies who sleep with the light on are more likely to grow up shortsighted than children who sleep in the dark, a team of US researchers reported last week.
A study of 479 children aged between 2 and 16 years shows that children who sleep with a room light on before the age of 2 are five times more likely be shortsighted than children who sleep in the dark. Night lights were also linked to short sight but not as strongly as full overhead lighting.
“Our findings suggest that the absence of a nightly period of full darkness in early childhood may be an important risk factor in the development of nearsightedness,” said Richard Stone, senior investigator and professor of ophthalmology at the Scheie Eye Institute in Pennsylvania.
My children have gotten used to falling asleep with their room in total darkness, however at five and two they still share a bed with us more nights than not and that has always been the way since they were born. Where it may seem helpful to ‘leave a landing light on’ for kids who may feel scared, I believe that this fearfulness is a necessary part of childhood and an important lesson to learn about the primal world we live in, it just must not be experienced alone.
When was the last time you felt the wonder and power of the natural world around you, in total blackness, so that you could not see your hands in front of your face? Have you ever experienced this sensation? Have you ever been forced to use every sense except your sight, straining to its absolute limit to discern objects around you in an open space (I don’t mean trying to find the bathroom light at night)? Do you know what an enriching experience it is? How we underestimate the power of the unknown in this age of all mod cons; we fail to explore the night around us, pushed out as it is, beyond the city limits. We stay huddled under our fluorescent strip lights, busy with tasks, busy living our lives. And more and more, we fail to explore the darkness within us - the darkness of ‘death, anger, fear, illness, and yes, even sex’.
What joy it is to embrace the wild side of human nature and allow the night to enclose us totally and ask it to get to know us. What joy, and absolute necessity to familiarize ourselves with and explore these inner realms that are so often brushed under the carpet, labelled as ’states to control’ at all costs, parcelled up and marked: “to be opened - when it is too late, never”. The illumination of our world has pushed the darker issues like death and fear towards and past the wasteland of the city limits, somewhere far beyond our reach, our control. No wonder these things now control us in most of our waking lives, unleashed like phantoms in our nightmares.
Furthermore, ghosts, vampires, wolves, bogeymen, all the unfriendly archetypes that came to us during childhood nights seem totally out-of-place and at odds with us in our modern de-sensitized, bright lives (now only seen when manufactured and served up on a dumb horror movie). We have no need to explain them, no need to engage them in combat any more - or do we? Childhood adventures into the unknown are univerasal across all cultures, all backgrounds - there is something essential about conjuring all manner of enemies, protectors and heroes to grapple in our otherwordly lives. Something that makes us turn and face the unknown, face our deepest selves.
We also need the experience of sitting around a camp fire at night, with our friends, families and ancestors, recounting ghost stories and tales of heroes conquering all manner of darknesses, hearing the faint song of nature beyond the ring of the campfire’s light. We need to have some part of our life that is totally unknown, totally dark, totally out of our control (labelled the nagual by the writer Carlos Casteneda) this gives our real waking lives shape, meaning and safety.
Any pre-industrialised community would have built a huge stock of stories and fables, which enabled its people to explore the dark side of life, physically and emotionally, explaining the dangers, the fears, the thrills - always within the protection of the fold. All this would have been woven into the song of the tribe itself, the song of the landscape, something we never experience now enclosed in our illuminated homes. Even our modern day fairy stories have been dumbed down to an agonisingly political correctness.
I was interested to read a review about the book, “Singing Story, Healing Drum: Shamans and Storytellers of Turkic Siberia” by Kira Van Deusen, which mentioned that many of the tales recounted in the book are somewhat gruesome to our modern day standards - in storytelling terms at least. But unlike show-it-all horror movies, which children are increasingly subjected to at younger and younger ages, campfire or candle-lit tales, which are sung, spoken or re-enacted, allow the audience to re-form the imagery in their own heads; make of it what they will, heed the lessons meant for the individual alone, learn from words spoken and sung on all levels, with the backdrop of the flickering fire, which forms shadows and patterns on the faces of the listeners. This is also true of our experience with the dark: we take from it what we need, with the more profound depths always available to us when we feel ready to explore further. This is how nature teaches us about life. And Death.
Our very own and personal experiences with the dark in waking life or in our dreams should not be disturbed or suppressed by artificial light. Sleep in the same room, within physical touch of a child if he is petrified of the dark and ban all scary movies from the house. Let children wander in this night-time world of their own making, safe in the blanket of darkness that enfolds them every night and safe knowing that physical bodily protection is not far off. Children should not sleep alone, especially in the important pre-literate years, when their imagination is still powerful and vivid - before school has made them too analytical and cynical. When they are made to sleep alone, they are forced to journey out every night without that all-important lifeline back to the bedroom: the parents’ physical presence.
Always talk about children’s night time experiences with them, whether benign or terrifying; make stories from their night-time activities, where the child is always allowed to overcome his fears in the end by banishing or devouring the phantoms. Tell these stories before bed and let the child explore his own feelings - not yours. This will enable him to make his world come alive through a deep self-reflection of the unknown. Even better, take him out into the dark one evening, walk with him, explore the night with him, gaze at stars, listen to owls in the tress, watch bats flitter under the moon. Walk into the darkest part of the woods. Start to sense you, yourself moving out of your own comfort zone with every step, re-living your own childhood fears again, making that suppressed part of your psyche come alive with apprehension for the unknown. It will have a profound and lasting effect on all your every-day waking fears and anxieties.
For more info read “Dark Archetype” by Denise Dumars & Lori Nyx.
And follow a campaign for dark skies at http://www.britastro.org/dark-skies/
About the Author...
I am an english mummy living in the french Alps, I am a nourisher to my dear other half and two girls of five and two. I am just about to start homeschooling the girls and we aim to travel around Europe with them next year. We follow the WAP diet and live a slow life up here in the mountains.




Jan 22nd, 2008 at 9:04 am
Thanks for this post Louisa. This is a subject that is rarely touched upon and I find it very interesting. I was intrigued by the bit about our bodies (female) following the cycle of the moon. I just finished a historical fiction book about women in the bible times and how they would gather in a tent together at their ‘moon cycles’. It was a time the celebrated together and gave thanks to the moon and their bodies ability to give life. It made me wonder why our bodies don’t follow that pattern anymore. I found it very time appropriate that you put this article out at this time. I’d like to do more research to see if I can get my body to follow it’s natural cycle. Unfortunately I live in a very well lit area and I can hardly see the moon unless its full. What a pity.
Jan 23rd, 2008 at 3:11 am
Hi Louisa. Katie Singer in her book “Honoring Our Cycles” discusses this in detail - it is a concept I had never heard of before but makes total sense. We conceived both of our children when we lived out in the countryside and they were both conceived very quickly, no trouble at all, and now I do wonder if it had something to with living in such a naturally lit place. Really interesting article - thank you! K xx
Jan 26th, 2008 at 6:28 am
Thanks for this post. It is an issue with which I am concerned, also. I am in the middle of the USA, in Minnesota, in a small city near two very large cities. Part of me would so love to move to the country and live without electricity but I’m not sure when or if that will be possible, or if it’s best for us in the long run.
Still, I feel sad that I and my family are so disconnected from the moon and stars. I would like to join the campaign for dark skies!
Lisa
Jan 28th, 2008 at 9:12 pm
What a great article! I had read that it’s good to sleep in total darkness but was pondering those bright moonlit nights - so that’s clear now!
The ecovillage where I live thankfully has a “dark sky policy”: no outdoor or street lighting (except dim lights for safety reasons such as to light up stairs or a path to someone’s house, no bare globes visible from outside people’s houses, muted lighting. And I must say, as hard as it was to implement this when designing our house, we really really appreciate it. I love it when my 2 1/2 year old looks outside and says “ooohh, it’s dark outside now mama!” and then he starts talking about dinosaurs, crocodiles and lions being out there! I was a bit concerned that he was suffering anxiety about it but then decided it was just his imagination coming into play and your article has confirmed that.
Thanks!