The nighttime has always been my time for thinking and worrying. Even as a small child, I was often unable to sleep, too afraid of being left alone with my own thoughts in the dark. I would get out of bed and creep to the edge of the room, my body still stuck in the dark, but my eyes closer to the light in the hall. This hall light made me feel as if there was still life in our house or at least in the world, and I was less alone.

Even now, when day is done and no good can possibly come of anything else I attempt before morning, I try to put off going to bed as long as possible. I learn music for upcoming gigs that have already been cancelled, I work on my taxes, I run around in circles on my living room rug trying to chase away the pounding in my heart, knowing all the while that instead of silencing my brain, I am simply wearing out the rug.

At night when I’m meant to be sleeping, I wonder about others like me who are also lying awake in the dark, lost and afraid that we are not doing enough to help repair the world. I look towards those who use their inner fire to forge a path and light the way for others, ensuring that progress and justice will not be denied forever. These people are bright lights, agencies of change, carrying hope and inspiration to aching souls. I wonder how many of us long to be worthy, one day, of being counted as just a flicker among those lights…