INTO THE NIGHT
If I die in a car crash tomorrow , and I didn't go out for this walk tonight, I'll be sorely pissed. So began one of my many nighttime prowls, at 3:00 am. Since establishing a rigorous daytime schedule a few months before, I had not been going on my regular excursions; and I was beginning to feel the impact. A bit lethargic, a bit too comfortable (which soon becomes "complacent"), and experiencing renewed fears of stepping my foot out into the dark. Tired or not, it was time to lace up the tennies and get my butt out there.
"Energy begets energy, life begets life," I remember reading somewhere. Ain't it the truth! The more I go to the front line and do the very thing I am afraid to do, the less afraid I become to do it. And the more I act on my desires, the more I become aware of what they are.
Do we pattern our lives in ways we authentically want? Or do we seemingly want to pattern our lives those ways, as a result of old, deep-rooted fear? Fear surrounding certain behaviors may be so pervasive that the behaviors do not consciously strike us as desirable. Or even as options.
I have spoken with women who do not feel this society is violent towards us. "Do you feel safe walking around by yourself in the middle of the night?" I always ask. "Well, I don't go out in the middle of the night," they usually reply. Viva la problem! Growing up without certain freedoms presented as an option, we may not envision them in our lives at all. Without knowing the world outside the cage, we may not miss it. And so we may not see the bars.
Reorienting myself to become a morning person has made life easier for me, by making it more comfortable. When I have to be in bed by midnight, going biking in the hills at 11:30 pm is no longer an option. Struggle erased. I don't have to muster up the courage to overcome my fear; I don't even have to see my fear. For all intents and purposes, after all, I'm not biking simply because I have to go to bed.
I feel that at least occasionally, we need to push ourselves beyond what is comfortable, to find out exactly why it is so comfortable. We must exercise our option to live another way. Because without the option, we don't have the freedom. And without the freedom, we don't have the choice. Without the choice, we don't have the power.
So when I found myself wrapping things up and heading off to bed that night, I stopped and considered the possibility of going for a short walk. I'm tired, I thought. And indeed I was. But if the world were perfectly safe; if there was no doubt I could walk outside for a couple of minutes and return unharmed and even unhassled, would I do it? The answer was yes. So off I went, into the night!
***
On several occasions, I have heard gunshots in my neighborhood. And a few years ago, not too far away from where I live, a friend witnessed a random street mugging and murder, at 10:00 pm. But that was at 10:00!I was walking at 3:00!
Truly, when is it safe for us to be anywhere? On a Saturday afternoon a few years ago, in my apartment in Los Angeles, I was getting ready to clean my car. As I headed out, a beautiful song came on the radio. I just had to stay and dance to it. Five minutes later, cleaning my car in the apartment garage, I heard noises and looked towards the sounds. I didn't see anything, so I kept cleaning. Within minutes, I saw a man leave the garage; and shortly after, a woman appeared from the area where I had heard the noise. She informed me the man had robbed her at gun point. At 1:00 pm. On my home turf. I was grateful for that beautiful song.
During college in New York, I heard a woman speak about being assaulted at 3:00 pm on the corner of Broadway and 116th - a bustling area across the street from both Barnard and Columbia. A place anyone would think "safe" at that time of day. But there some strange man was, bashing her head against the pavement, in broad daylight, with people walking by.
So where and when is safe? I find that the outrageous level of violence in our society, especially towards women, actually is freeing. If a woman might be attacked in the middle of the afternoon, in her own home, by someone she loves...hell! We might as well party naked in the streets around the clock!
The shroud of fear and taboo around a woman walking alone at night has been fostered by a myth of high-risk danger in the very place and time I believe it is least likely to exist. Let's not forget that statistically speaking, a woman is more likely to be assaulted by a boyfriend in a bed than a stranger on a street. What more, I find that walking alone at night has been the source of much of my power. "Aha!" I thought to myself one glorious night. "This is why they've said it's dangerous. It's not dangerous for us; it's dangerous to them!"
As a woman, I feel intrinsically connected with the dark, wild night. The cool, refreshing air. The waxing and waning, luminous moon. These features of the night are roots of my female power. And it is out in the night that I reconnect with the universe and my soul. I howl at the moon. I dance in the shadows. I come alive. And I carry this life force with me into the days and every part of my existence.
And when I do not go out at night, I feel myself shrinking back, fitting more into the death role society has cut out for us as women. Method to the madness? I believe so. Cut off from our source of power, we become weaker and weaker, more dependent and more willing to accept handouts instead of demanding our full glorious space. And by keeping us inside or attached to male companions, we are more susceptible to the real danger - being attacked by the men we know and love.
The more we go out into the night; the more we take our power, the more threatened is the entire fabric of this misogynistic society. So of course the myth will persist, even when reality flies in its face...
***
Out on my excursions, I have thought of a number of ways to feel safer: First, I know many women - including myself - would hop into a car late at night and drive to some other indoor space, then get back in the car and drive home. With a little fear perhaps, but we would do it without thinking much. Well, every time we get in or out of our cars, we are exposed. We are rather comfortable with this reality, I believe, because we are going somewhere, supposedly from a safe place to a safe place.
Well, what if we extended this reality? If I lived in the house next door, I would need to go outside it to get into my car. Same thing if I lived in the house two doors down. And three doors down. And four. During my more terrified walks early on, I got myself through entire neighborhoods thinking this way. What might be the most frightening factor, I thus realized, is not the actual act of going outside, but the act of defiance - the act of going "out of bounds;" the act of going outside for myself, just for fun and just because. That's power. That's self-nurturance. That's taking charge. And that is going against all the rules.
Second, I have thought about all the ways I could (Gd/dess forbid) be killed or maimed - car crash, plane crash, terrorist attack when abroad, natural disaster, snake bite, attack by bears when camping...Thinking of all these possibilities and about how random it is what might happen and when, I gain perspective: Life is about living, not avoiding. We can't escape risk even by hiding in a closet. (After all, it might cave in during an earthquake.)
Along these lines, I also have thought about how we never know when our time will come. If this were my last night, I have said, how would I feel about this walk? Invariably, my mood becomes lighter; I shrug off my fear; and I end up happily dancing and skipping in the street.
A few years ago, I read about an accountant who was killed by an old lady who couldn't see well and drove her car through the glass front of his office. That story did it for me. If I could lead a boring safe life and get killed anyhow, in a chair at my boring job, forget it! I'd rather go out bold, brilliant, and beautiful, living my life the way I want.
Third, when I first started walking by myself at night, I walked in the middle of the street. That way, I learned in self-defense training, I could avoid anyone possibly hiding in the bushes; and I could see anyone coming towards me. Yah, I more recently realized, and they can see me, too. No thanks. I now walk on the sidewalk, in the shadows. Who said, after all, that I won't be behind the bushes, jumping out at all the bad guys? Hmm? Real power kicks in here, when we stop viewing ourselves as potentially being "acted upon" and begin seeing ourselves as actors.
Besides, anyone hiding behind bushes in the wee hours of the morning, waiting for a victim, has got to be a moron. Hiding behind bushes during the day or evening, when there actually is foot traffic, makes much more sense. Someone that intent on finding prey, I am certain, will be more inclined to look in the places and at the times the "prey" usually roams. It is one of the reasons I sense that walking late at night actually may be safer than at other times.
***
We have lots of cats in our neighborhood, and they're already out on the prowl whenever I get to mine. They truly inspire me. They're about five percent my size, yet they have no compunctions about sitting their little butts outside, wherever and whenever the hell they please. Sure, they dart into the shadows when they hear potentially threatening sounds. But I can too. And just as you bet they'd scratch my eyes out if I cornered them, I too can attack anyone who hassles me.
I hang out with the night cats as I walk down the street. I approach them respectfully, stopping at a distance and squatting down closer to their height. I invite them over and pet them only if they come. If not, I respect their privacy and continue on. But most of the cats love the unexpected attention and walk themselves under my hand or against my leg. It's great connecting with them, especially as I identify with the cat family. I learn from their behavior and nourish my lioness-Leo self. Together with my cat sisters, we take back the night and take over the streets!
I also gain strength from the trees, a few of whom I hug while passing by on my prowl. When I press against them, they drain all the negative energy out of me and fill me with a new, strong, positive charge. They also teach me to stay rooted and strong and to continue reaching towards my ultimate, despite all destructive forces which may be around: Even if a tree gets cut down, after all, it gets cut down as a tree, always growing, always stretching. It does not shrivel into a ball to hide from the axes...
And so I call on all of us to be like the cats and the trees, to nourish our wild selves. Let's prowl in the dark and feed our energy sources. Let's do what's dangerous to the system directed at our destruction. Let's do what gives us life... Let's go out into the night!
This article was first published in Clamor Magazine
©1996 by Loolwa Khazzoom. All rights reserved. No portion of this article may be copied without author's permission.
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