Duality
The autumn season sets the scene for several topics to reflect on as we approach months that remind us of holidays, traditions, loved ones, cycles, change, comforting recipes, and, if you live anywhere in North America (except Arizona (1) and Hawaii), the “fall back” to standard time. To say I loathe the time change in November is probably overly dramatic. To say that it is an event I am unenthused about is very true. Admittedly, my general negative disposition towards the resetting of our clocks is mostly fueled by the personal funk I find myself in when early evening darkness makes it more difficult to enjoy the outdoors after work, and I have to confront waning motivation to leave the house and socialize.
We’ve lived with this time system for the past 59 years (2). It has lasted this long. Is it therefore sustainable? Amidst the hemming and hawing about whether we were to end it, some might say, “Well, it is what it is”. Moreover, dismantling the time change means we would then have to choose which to stick with permanently: daylight saving time or standard time. Like a domino effect, another decision to deliberate over. So we keep tootling along under the mantra 'don't fix what isn't broken’. However, living in this current limbo doesn't seem like the best long-term solution; for one, it most likely has adverse effects on our bodies from a healthcare perspective (3). Despite these general concerns, it seems unlikely that progress towards sacking the bi-annual disruption of our circadian rhythms will be made anytime soon. Truthfully, these days, there are more pressing issues to address. Hence, here we are, facing another time change.
Now, in the Northern Hemisphere, happily unaware of our clocks, the deciduous leaves are changing, the temperatures are cooling (somewhat), and the squirrels are hiding their treasures. While we continue our march towards the winter months, I am pondering the balances of light and dark, daylight and darkness, warmth and coolness. Perhaps these dualities are on my mind because the doggo and I went for a stroll in Richmond’s famous Hollywood Cemetery (4). It seems…rather goth to express just how calming and almost magical it was to walk around a graveyard (5). One minute, in my very un-Parisian life, I was parking my car and getting my bearings straight. Then, as we wandered, we suddenly teleported to Paris’s Cimetière du Père-Lachaise (6). Well, we didn’t actually stumble into France, but it really felt like I was suddenly no longer in Richmond (7). It even felt a bit movie-esque. Logically, the cinematic atmosphere that descended upon me is probably a nod to the fact that I’ve only seen the renowned French cemetery through the eyes of a TV show (‘Étoile’ if anyone is curious). And while my adventure started as an effort to accomplish a goal on my Richmond/Virginia bucket list, I've made up my mind to visit again at some point. Hollywood Cemetery was too expansive to experience in a mere hour and a half.
Strolling in Hollywood Cemetery with Sugar | Richmond VA, 2025
Duality, or the inherent contrast of two concepts, subtly affects much of how we interact. It is hard to imagine a world where an idea does not also have an opposing force. For example, it is difficult to appreciate an engrossing story about good vs evil when you are missing either the good or the evil. Contrast offers contextual definition simultaneously linking and dividing two ideas, experiences, notions (etc.). Heartwarming underdog stories are built on haves and have-nots. Cemeteries are solemn grounds to contemplate life and death. Only in a perfect and resurrected world does it seem possible that we could have only good and fully appreciate its presence despite the absence of bad (8). For now, we are bound to live life in duality. I in no way wish to express that we must be apathetic -- looking at the depravity of this world as a necessary darkness. In extreme cases, there are examples of severe evil that we must not tolerate at all. Although for day-to-day cases, perhaps interacting with duality means mourning the brokenness of this world while actively working to counteract opposing darkness in the way we care for each other. Can we point each other to hope in a place where the negatives might threaten to render our hearts cold toward our neighbors?
Conversely, I’m not suggesting that we throw opposition out the window. The healthy ability to challenge each other civilly to new perspectives is better than complacency. All this being said, I must emphasize I am not a trained counselor, theologian, or expert on logic theory. It is not my goal to blindly launch myself into a conversation about relativism vs absolutism. That would be biting off more than I can chew for my little October blog post. In writing these thoughts, I am processing several overlapping topics I’ve encountered this month. I am thinking about change and growth. I am thinking about how I can challenge myself to be a better listener. Recently, I heard a few pieces of advice regarding what it may look like to be deeply (caringly) curious. One, consolation is not a one-size-fits-all approach. The second point is to remember how meaningful it is to listen to understand vs. solely listening to prepare your response. Third, there is wisdom in speaking eventually (after listening well) because merely building that bridge but never crossing it makes it only partly effective in growing richly deep relationships. What does it look like to pursue learning how to be with family, friends, new acquaintances, neighbors, and strangers in more meaningful fellowship? Perhaps to start, it looks like consolation through active listening, being a consistently thoughtful presence, and building bridges to then offer intentional action and attentive responses.
Last but not least, for a bit of levity (to oppose the above heavy talking points). I recently started watching reality cooking competition shows (9). Aside from the neat culinary topics that I may or may not absorb, there's something about the drama, the pressure, the attitudes, and the awkward, laughable insertion of product placement that keeps me coming back for more. Furthermore, food is an approachable shared experience that can be an excellent topic of conversation… especially around the table at holidays. Therefore, to bring it all back around to the overarching subject: do you prefer savory or sweet?
Bonus conversation starter for deeper connection: I'd love to talk to you about a recipe (or specific meal) that holds significant meaning for you and why.
With love,
Mia
FOOTNOTES
The Navajo Nation in Arizona does follow DST while the rest of Arizona doesn’t. Seems confusing!
Feel free to check my math-- it was made a law in 1966. https://www.bts.gov/explore-topics-and-geography/geography/geospatial-portal/history-time-zones-and-daylight-saving
https://med.stanford.edu/news/all-news/2025/09/daylight-saving-time.html
https://www.hollywoodcemetery.org/visit/natural-treasure-guides/the-trees-of-hollywood
Kind of a more pedestrian term if you will.
Forgive me if you are French and consider it a blunder to compare the two cemeteries as equals.
I am including my dog in this experience despite her lack of a higher intellect because I would like to believe that she felt like we were on holiday in Europe.
Revelation 21:4
Next Gen Chef, Top Chef, Salt Fat Acid Heat (not a reality competition show)