Sleep is wonderful. I love dreaming, especially the ones where I fly. Sleep gives us the chance to sort out all the hectic thoughts that we don't have the time or the inclination to address when we are awake. It heals, it fills us. I fall into sleep with relief.
And getting into bed, lying down, feeling the soft cotton and the gentle hold of the duvet around me, pillows giving just enough under the weight of my head.
Staring up at the stars or the moon when it sails past my window. In summer, with the window open, listening to the waterfall or the distant hum of a car as someone makes the solitary journey up the valley. Falling into the darkness to the familiar sound of the house around me muttering to itself, tinking pipes, the creak of the bunk when Rose turns over in her sleep, the clack of the catflap as Zac goes off to, or returns from, a midnight adventure. I wonder where he goes, what paths he finds in his cat world, wide open to his night vision. The scents he finds, what it is like to push through bramble and fern towering above his head. A beast of prey on his mountain.
Before I know it I am asleep.
I wish sometimes I could savour the pleasure of falling asleep for longer than I do. To enjoy tipping over the brink in the same way as sinking into a deep, warm bath or melting chocolate on my tongue.
I wish sometimes that I could stay asleep. I miss sleeping and I hate the sucking dryness of my energy levels after a bout of insomnia. How poisoned it feels to know that the time I should have spent usefully topping up my body's store of strength instead has been given over to thoughts and worries that serve little purpose.
Sometimes however, the extra time is useful. I spin, write, imagine my other lives that I could have led. I pray sometimes, for those who also cannot sleep but for more serious reasons that habitual insomnia. I think how blessed I am. I watch my daughters sleep, like pearls in oysters, still and perfect. I watch them breathe, mutter, stretch and sink back once more. Rose laughs and I wonder what she is dreaming of.
I wander downstairs, make a cup of tea, snuggle up in a blanket and stare once more out at the stars. If I am lucky and I close the laptop soon I will get back to sleep tonight.
Funny that, writing about sleep when finding it is an ongoing struggle for me.
Nos da cariad, I hope you are sleeping well and are held in gentle dreams.
Staring up at the stars or the moon when it sails past my window. In summer, with the window open, listening to the waterfall or the distant hum of a car as someone makes the solitary journey up the valley. Falling into the darkness to the familiar sound of the house around me muttering to itself, tinking pipes, the creak of the bunk when Rose turns over in her sleep, the clack of the catflap as Zac goes off to, or returns from, a midnight adventure. I wonder where he goes, what paths he finds in his cat world, wide open to his night vision. The scents he finds, what it is like to push through bramble and fern towering above his head. A beast of prey on his mountain.
Before I know it I am asleep.
I wish sometimes I could savour the pleasure of falling asleep for longer than I do. To enjoy tipping over the brink in the same way as sinking into a deep, warm bath or melting chocolate on my tongue.
I wish sometimes that I could stay asleep. I miss sleeping and I hate the sucking dryness of my energy levels after a bout of insomnia. How poisoned it feels to know that the time I should have spent usefully topping up my body's store of strength instead has been given over to thoughts and worries that serve little purpose.
Sometimes however, the extra time is useful. I spin, write, imagine my other lives that I could have led. I pray sometimes, for those who also cannot sleep but for more serious reasons that habitual insomnia. I think how blessed I am. I watch my daughters sleep, like pearls in oysters, still and perfect. I watch them breathe, mutter, stretch and sink back once more. Rose laughs and I wonder what she is dreaming of.
I wander downstairs, make a cup of tea, snuggle up in a blanket and stare once more out at the stars. If I am lucky and I close the laptop soon I will get back to sleep tonight.
Funny that, writing about sleep when finding it is an ongoing struggle for me.
Nos da cariad, I hope you are sleeping well and are held in gentle dreams.
4 comments:
You write so beautifully, Sian. Truly inspiring :-)
I didn't sleep well last night at all. I had a nitemare and woke up exhausted. There was this big shark chasing me and it ate my boat and then chased me up the big magnolia tree in my back yard. Man that thing could climb well. Ok Yes I ate too much too late last night.
*Yawn* not at the writing but at the lovely thought of sleep......I feel like I don't savor it enough.....
Thanks guys :)
and Greg, leave the cheese alone late at night
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