It’s now practically the end of summer and moving into autumn and the days are still light and full and hot for us in the southern hemisphere, but on the other side of the world the days are short and dark and often miserable with people saying, they’re so glad January is done. As many of you know, I recently went to Norway, right up into the Arctic Circle and there was darkness practically all the time. Hours and hours and hours of night. It was quite dramatic for the likes of me who was born in January in the middle of summer here in Western Australia. I grew up on the beach, in sea water, practically, in long hot days, and night was something you simply slept through: daylight until 7pm and night until dawn at around 5am. Back here in the West I’m up with the sun and out the door for my daily swim in the Indian Ocean.
In Kirkenes, in Norway, right up near the Russian border, in December night was effectively all day. Where was the time for waking, when for sleeping? How do people cope with it all? Don’t they get horribly depressed? What is the incidence of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD): that condition associated with lethargy, low mood, irritability and craving carbohydrates (the symptoms of SAD) up there in the Arctic Circle? These thoughts led to a lot of reading, as thoughts generally do, and I discovered something very interesting: those northerners generally don’t experience SAD. So something more is happening.
Antidepressants are often prescribed along with psychotherapies for those suffering SAD, a condition more often experienced by those living in kinder climes than Kirkenes. Why do we suffer and they don’t? Maybe it is because we don’t know how to manage our perceived difficulties. They get no more than a mere sliver of light hovering above the horizon but they are active, engaged, friendly, warm. We, on the other hand, are often moody and irritable. How do they do it? Studies have indicated that their moods stay pretty well stable throughout the year.
Mindset, it seems, is the key, at least to a point. The way we think about things affects how much we are affected by them. Those who view stressful events as challenges with an opportunity to learn, adapt and discover do better than those who focus on the threatening aspects (possibility of accidents or illness or loss).
You can think of winter as dark and miserable, or an opportunity for warm companionship, outdoor sports, and fun. And yet, and yet… We are also our biology. Light manages our circadian rhythm in a cycle of sleep and wakefulness in a 24 hour environment. It is during darkness that melatonin is produced. Melatonin is the hormone that makes you feel sleepy and those with SAD may produce higher than normal levels.
Light also shifts our moods. Morning sunlight advances the clock (making you sleepier earlier), while evening light delays it. This is why light therapy (blue light, particularly) is useful in the treatment of SAD. Sunlight is loaded with the blue light, so when the cells absorb it, our brains’ alertness centres are activated and we feel more lively and awake. If we suffer insomnia, exposure to morning light helps reset our internal clock enabling us to wake earlier and sleep longer. Bright light at night delays our body clock, making it harder to fall asleep.
So there needs to be a balance between light and darkness, environmentally and metaphorically, for the human being to function well. We can be martyrs to biology or, as those in the Arctic Circle do, think about our light-environment as a challenge or cave in to dark feelings where even the clouds cry.
Is it any wonder that it is right up there in the Arctic Circle that dog sledding is a much delighted in sport. My friend and I did it and it was fast and furious fun. Six dogs ran with us in the sled full speed across the frozen landscape with just a sliver of golden light edging its way over the horizon. This is the essence of cocking the snoot at biology.
