Well, I guess my karma is coming back to bite me on the ass.
These dark winter nights, I drink herbal teas, soak in steaming hot Mediterranean sea salts and listen to relaxation tapes, all in preparation for the simple pleasure of floating off to sleep. Yes, I try and trick the Sandman, but before I know it, he throws sand in my eyes keeping me awake while precious sleep eludes me.
Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, ... have a wee dram of scotch, a glass or two of vino, a puff of BC bud, or indulge in other nocturnal naughtiness until dreamy diversions pull the covers over my droopy eyelashes, delivering me to the Land of Nod.
Nope. And I'm pretty pissed because it seems completely backwards that my middle-aged mind has decided (without my consent), that what was once a relaxant, is now a stimulant. I’ve tried all the techniques and remedies to take me to Dreamland except sleeping pills. Sedatives were never my thing; I’m not self-righteous, just not one to dabble in downers. Truth is, I'm afraid I'm tired enough to pull a Rip Van Winkle. The thoughts of waking up in 2032 ... Let’s not go there, okay?
Also I’ve realized the reason I’m not sleeping is there are important things to I need to do!
At 3:30 am I have the most amazing ideas for screenplays, movie scripts, manifest destinies, peace declarations, blueprints for environmental salvation and Eurpoean economic strategies. Not to mention the best blogs and Pulitzer prize-winning novels; all of which disperse as the fading black greets the light of dawn. Then just as my eyelids are closing, the clock radio announces morning startling me out of my reverie playing, -- and I’m not kidding -- Bachman Turner Overdrive's Taking Care of Business.
In this hemisphere it’s Imbolc, the time of year when Earth prepares to awaken from her dormant cycle. I’m hoping I may wake up and sleep any time soon now. Now that may sound like an oxymoron but I mean every word of it.
Still, each night I hope to start the next day refreshed ready to fulfill all those New Year resolutions I never made. My morning begins with green tea, **bleck** (I hate it but its good for me) and oatmeal. After ablutions and quick artistry involving smoke, mirrors and high tech concealers, a Day in the Life unfolds. During my drive to work, I down my coffee convincing myself I’ll arrive looking like a reasonably well-rested woman.
On my mid-afternoon break I want to surf the net and see what’s new, but my weary eyes blur over and I go instead for some caffeinated beverage that - you guessed it - will help keep me up at night.
Lately with alert waking hours at a minimum, I’m careful how I spend them because, quite frankly, I have a sense of time slipping away. This lack of sleeping has left me filling my non-working hours with a whole lot of nothing.
Does staring at your recently painted turquoise toes count?
And so, beloved fellow bloggers, know I have been jonesin’ and missing this place a bit. We are all responding and firing off transmitters and receptors. In fact, have you ever considered 'weird' and 'wired' have the same letters? I have. At 2:43 am. See, this not being able to sleep thing has consequences. Plus, it's playing havoc with my schedule.
I’m conflicted both with a sense of urgency to ‘do’ more coupled with the desire to just let things be, you know, ‘be’-ing instead of ‘do’-ing. Or at least that has become my sleep-deprived rationalization. Stillness takes a lot of energy and conscious activity requires calm. Within this too wired world, I try and practice balance in both.
For sanity's sake knowing some patterns need to change, I signed up to attend a yoga day course called, Manifesting Your Desires. So last Sunday, planning to get my life in order, I figured I'd work some stuff out on my yoga mat. As a result of my good intentions, my karmic reward would be ... some much needed REM sleep.
Being exhausted and arriving most places fashionably late these days, I was most pleased to be the first eager student there. I wasn’t late for once.
My lovely teacher opened the door, remarkably surprised at my presence. I thought she was smiling at my early arrival. Turns out she was.
I wasn’t late at all. Just a week early.
© Scarlett Sumac 2012.
Leave me where I am, I'm only sleeping."