We’ve been in our new house for a week now, but we’re far from re-establishing our routines because we’ve been too busy looking for silverware, our socks and even our computers.
But one night after everyone was in bed, I pulled out my phone and watched a TV program (don’t even ask about the cable TV installation nightmare) in our den. A fan hummed in the hallway to my new office, but everything else was still.
Midnight and beyond is when I wind down. My breathing slows, and I finally have the margin I need to pray or think. This is when clarity often comes.
This is the point I try to make to many of my early bird friends. Night owls aren’t lazy or undisciplined. We are just wired differently than early birds. And that’s okay.
You might hear God during 5:00 a.m. devotions. I tend to hear him at 1:00 a.m. as I wind down for the day, processing everything that’s happened and everything I’ve taken in.
One day this week, I heard a songwriter talking about the struggle to remain financially viable. He took odd jobs here and there, but still, his car was repossessed. And he was on the verge of quitting. That’s when he realized that song ideas would still – in fact, he was created to write songs – but he didn’t need to make money from them. He just needed to write them down. In surrender, he found success – probably in the form of a hit, but he didn’t say. It almost didn’t matter because his mindset had shifted.
Late one night, I had time to process this story. It’s hard not to think about how my own writing has taken a back seat to major life changes, including some health issues. As I listened to the songwriter, I nodded along with him. It’s far better to find a way to support your art than to insist that your art support you. I’ve known this, but hearing the songwriter say it caused something to click inside me. I don’t think it’ll lead to more writing time in the near future, but it’ll reaffirm my own mindset when I do.
For me, the midnight hour is not about productivity or catching up or proving anything. It’s just for listening. And I do so in a myriad of ways – watching TV, reading, praying, thinking.
Sometimes, if I listen long enough, I remember things I already knew but had forgotten in the noise of the day. Like how my writing doesn’t disappear when life gets crowded. It waits. The words will be there when the season changes.
