Taking What I Can
I gave myself until 2:07am. If I wasn't asleep, or at least nearly so, I would get up and do something else. I made it until 2:02 and then got out of bed. I was exhausted at 7:30 in the evening. I could have slept for hours had I shut my eyes then. But in the wee hours of the morning, my tiredness apparently doesn't hold as much power. That said, my head and vision are swimming while I write this. I'm tired. So why is it so hard to rest?
I crawl into bed and suddenly there are two dozen things more pressing than sleep: cleaning the bathroom and kitchen floors, putting away laundry, figuring out a new design for this blog, writing five articles for two different online publications, going grocery shopping so I can cook a healthy meal sometime this week. Trust me, the list goes on for awhile. It will bore you. It bores me.
I tried cataloging all of it; allowing myself to acknowledge each item that distracted me and then letting it go. I got to the end of my mental list, and suddenly an image of a beach at sunset or sunrise came into my mind. (I kid you not.) For the briefest moment, I knew fully that none of these other things mattered. I felt weightless and grounded all at once.
And then it was gone. I rolled over and looked at the clock. I got up and got online, which I've read is a bad insomnia-related activity because the light from the computer screen stimulates your body and mind, making it harder to fall asleep. (To compensate for the computer screen light, I'm sitting here by the soft glow of fairy lights.)
I call this non-stop mind chatter my hamster in a wheel. She can run and run and run. If the Energizer Bunny ever does stop, my hamster could take over and just keep going. (I think she'll need a smaller drum, though. Or maybe a small pair of castanets. That would be nice.)
It's now an hour later. I think I've finally run myself out. I think my body is finally too tired to listen to the hamster squeaking. It's not exactly a moment of enlightenment, but at this hour, I'll take it.