In my life, like many, I have had a tenuous relationship with sleep. As a child, sleep was elusive. So much in fact, both my preschool and kindergarten teachers knew not to even bother to enforce communal nap times. I was given books to read instead, which turned out to be both a fantastic remedy and cause of more sleeplessness.
Through out my teen and young adulthood, a fast mind and anxiety kept me up at night. It wasn’t until I became a mother that my insomnia subsided. I learned to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Perhaps it was out of sheer exhaustion. My sons are 16 months apart. There were several years when I needed to sleep whenever I possibly could.
It has sort of become a joke in the family. If you are around me after lunch, I will curl up in any chair and fall asleep for approximately 20 minutes. Most nights, I can barely make it to 9pm. I have a nighttime routine that rivals that of a swaddled baby that puts me to sleep within seconds.
This past week has been challenging as our family has our best man down. In case you missed it, my husband had an accident, surgery and will be immobile for the next 3 months. He will be fine. We will be fine. It is just a new challenge that has me juggling many plates, hats, whatever the metaphor of the moment.
Each night, the entire family, exhausted from carrying the load our best man has left behind has been going to be at 8:30pm. I wish I could relay the deep rest that has been happening. I do not wake until my alarm. I have these intense dreams where favorite people I loved and missed visit me. Or my boys are still squishy toddlers delighting in simple activities like eating blueberries. Or walking the countryside in England.
It is the type of sleep that conjures up one of my favorite Wendall Berry poems from his Sabbath collection
The body in the invisible
Familiar room accepts the gift
Of sleep, and for a while is still;
Instead of will, it lives by drift
In the great night that gathers up
The earth and sky. Slackened, unbent,
Unwanting, without fear or hope,
The body rests beyond intent.
Sleep is the prayer the body prays,
Breathing in unthought faith the Breath
That through our worry-wearied days
Preserves our rest, and is our truth.
Wishing all of you good and healing rest. 8:30 is impressive! I love that you're being rewarded by your dreams!
Well do I remember times like this, when the unexpected has occurred and life tilts in a way we have not previously experienced. I am praying for deep rest each time you close your eyes in sleep. I envision a divine love bubble hovering over you and your family. Sending lots of love and hugs your way.