Just in time for a mind nap. Oh sure, I hear people talk about mind-mapping all the time but let's discuss the mind nap. Those moments when I wake up mid-chore with a head full of mental chatter and think "What the hell am I doing in the kitchen? Why did I come here again?" The reason lost until I retrace my steps, or possibly gone for good in a memory lapse. (I would be worried except I've had those space-outs ever since I was a teenager: thanks, survival brain!)
Winter is here. The season is all about the sleep, snoozing, catching some z's, and yet I am counting sheep (which is what I woulda coulda shoulda done in a different time, in another place—for real, my mother's people were a sheepherding dynasty, village bigwigs in their own wiggy way).
Anywhooooo. Hello, February. I appear to be working through the five stages of insomnia. Denial first: "This can't be happening, that clock cannot be reading the right time!" Then anger. "NO. Why am I wide-eyed at 2am? NOOooo." Bargaining is a mixture of praying and reviewing my vocabulary of swear words before giving in to Depression: "Please god buddha #%*?@! I'll be a better human be—oh what's the point?"
Acceptance looks like this: tossing and turning, getting up, trying to read and giving up because my peepers are too tired to focus, multiple attempts to rub the sleep back into my eyes, catching up with global events through an old-timey radio (with an annoying alarm), listening to the sounds of the city muffled by snow, and wondering what happens next.
If this sleeplessness continues, I may get up and start my calisthenics routine (brushing teeth, combing hair, getting dressed) before coffee to Sly & The Family Stone's Everyday People—a song was the #1 Billboard hit the week I was born. That makes me happy like "You no believe", as my father would say.
On this Hallmarky day, I'll be thinking about love and listening to this Tara Brach talk on living with an awake, wise heart.
Oh sha sha we got to live together.