It is currently 11:07 pm. I find myself having the sleeping space I share with my husband empty. All this full size mattress space to myself? Boo-yah! It should be peaceful, I can lay there and let visualizations form, cuddle with my adorable Sol puppy…. I’ll be still…. and not even seconds later my mind is flooded with thoughts. Intrusive, infiltrating my own personal Nirvana. I end up furrowing my brow, agitated by their presence.
I see words when they are “spoken” in my mind. They float like sentences in front of a black canvas-back drop and if I speak long enough, it turns into a paragraph. I often reply to the questions my brain will ask me, conversation or arguments ensue, the paragraph transforms into an entire page of a booklet. Keeping me awake for what feels like forever as seconds roll into minutes.
It’s rare when I find peace when I sleep. Insomnia is my mistress, and she wraps me tightly into her arms, gazing into my eyes with her own, wide-eyed, piercing stare. In those eyes I see the night sky with a full moon hovering above the mountains and trees. I love how insomnia has a way of romanticizing her appeal, yet leaves me with broken promises. Promising comfort in the nights when I am alone, and the thoughts invading my mind cascade anxiety upon me like arrows blocking out the sun… the way she makes me feel at night is infuriating, yet I always come back and lose sleep over this wretched game of cat and mouse we play.
Having insomnia on top of evading a million words and pages filling up my brain space, makes sleep the most difficult task of my day… I have novels worth of thoughts stacking at the corners by 2 am alone.
I’m already struggling to chuck books out of the window as fast as I can but there is so slowing down.
If I have learned anything during this fast, it is that I’m order to heal my body, I must heal my mind. I must silence the ruckus stirring in my head by simply…. being still. I don’t think I’ve ever tried to do anything so difficult. I have never felt in control of my own mind, what passes through it, what is seen… but I have always been in the wrong perspective, and for far too long. I have always felt guilty for slowing down, sitting or relaxing, because I could be doing something else right? I could be cleaning the house, or doing something constructive, so it was unacceptable to sit. It put kinks in my natural flow, I began to barely even notice, or flat- out ignore how my body was feeling, and I neglected it. Soon, it started to reflect my mind and it became a cluttered house that I could never fully organize and things didn’t have a place. I was scattered and emotional, creating waves and turbulence through out my being. The ripples spread out into the universe and created massive waves.
This was habit, however. Negative patterns of thinking took precedent and I was fidgeting constantly. I couldn’t sit still! There was so much to do! And why sit? It’s boring and there’s no reason for it. Once I argue with myself I find that I have already lost.
To calm the mind, to sit still, it requires more self -discipline than I currently have. It’s called the art of “non-thinking”. Practicing clearing your mind with thoughts, images, music… whatever passes through it. And it is really difficult. I find satisfaction when I can do it for .3 seconds but if I have a thought, I start over again. It’s key in meditation, but with practice totally achievable. Everything is always easier said than done, but it feels great to do your body and mind wonders. To sit and merely observe is such a gift. It helps undo those kinks in my flow!
It’s now 11:45 pm. I have this entire full size mattress to myself, and I’m thinking…. “boo yah”.