Last week I helped plan a retreat for members of an Interfaith Climate Circle. We spent time outdoors. I received a clear message from the world around me, a commandment really: Tell the Story. Later in the day one of the participants spoke to the need for influencing policy. Back in the 1980’s I wrote a lot of letters to editors, congress people, even the president. The letters received little or no meaningful response, so after about five years I gave up on that tactic.

But I’ve become engaged with our local astronomy association and an urgent call was broadcast:
We need you to speak up on behalf of dark skies at night…the pickleballers want to light up their courts and they’re right next to the observatory.

I couldn’t attend the meeting, so I wrote a letter with TELL THE STORY as my guide:

May the human yearning for awe inspire your decision.
May the need for life-styles that support well-being motivate your decision.
May wanting all life to thrive on our planet influence your decision.

As an elder with a PhD in Human Development and a passion for igniting awe and wonder as good medicine for life on our small blue dot called Earth, I encourage you to think deeply before deciding whether to light pickleball courts for night time use.

Lighting up the night so more people can play sports, pickleball in this particular case, for more hours, more days, more weeks and more months makes no sense to me.

Is there no time for rest anymore, for the refreshment of shifting to other pursuits?

As biological beings, we were designed with rhythmic cycles built into our nervous systems. We humans thrive on a range of challenges and a longing for balance depending on the cycles of life itself. We were designed for dark nights and light days. Life on our planet has adapted to these daily rhythms ever since one celled creatures appeared about 4 billion-years ago. As modern, urbanized humans, we suffer from various afflictions and addictions because we no longer live in tune with our habitat.  We have lost connection with natural laws, lost our embodiment.

Our bodies crave downtime after activity.
Our souls crave awe and wonder, accessed easily by living with dark nighttime skies and the dreams belonging to sleep.
Our spirits crave conversation, connection with other beings, story, song, dance, communal celebration, creative expression…

The idea that pickleball might be played after dark dismays me. Not only does the light pollution destroy another dark sky habitat and the functioning of our telescopes, both large and small, right next door to the pickleball courts  – the Astronomy Association is an uncommon treasure for our island community to host – but pickleball is a noise polluter as well. Though my hearing is no longer acute, I  hear the clicking pop of bouncing pickleballs all the way over at the park’s permanent pond. I shrug it off during the day because that noise is inherent to the game, but I can’t imagine the racket that assaults the ears of our barely surviving more-than-human wild kin. Let’s give them peace after sunset at least.

Please consider deeply and long whether to bring more nightlight onto our island home. Author Paul Bogard’s book: The End of Night – Searching for Natural Darkness in an Age of Artificial Light explores this topic from many points of view, rooted in both his personal experience and global science. According to testimony by another author, Scott Russell Sanders, Bogard “shows us how much we lose by living cooped up inside perpetual glare, cut off from the beauty and mystery of the cosmos, lulled into thinking we are masters of the universe rather than members of the web of life.”

May we adopt the long-view and rely on the lessons of deep-time to show us how to be good ancestors for all the lives yet to come.
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This feels new to me, to write a “political” letter which begins and ends with blessings, encourages more interconnected ways of thinking, even placing limits on our human selves as a way of restoring balance, both personally and communally. I’d love feedback.