Sometimes when I have a lot on my mind, I go to bed and read until the book is falling out of my hands. Well, I always go to bed and read till the book is falling out of my hands, but sometimes I notice that as I close my eyes and drift into slumber my mind is speed racing through thoughts that feel as if they have landed on a dreamy loop going round and round – I’m asleep already or in a suspended state of mind – then suddenly I jump off of that thought disk and onto another thought disk, this one always has fear associated with it. I am conscious that my thoughts have been buzzing and suddenly the wheel has slowed down enough for me to realize that the spinning is no longer happening. Fear appears – it’s a soft edged fear – nebulous – amorphous – it interferes with falling asleep.
Then the fear itself starts playing hide and seek with me as I try to suss it out and find out what it represents. Next thing you know I don’t remember what my thoughts were spinning and I don’t know what caused me to come out of that groove and I don’t know what the fear was I felt upon coming out of it and now I just really want to go to sleep but I now feel as if I have to find out what just happened to me.
Recently, I find that I go ahead and tell myself that nothing is going on. Not a damn thing that is worth my sleep is going on. Nothing that would warrant me thinking about it is going on. Sometimes, I do get up and write, roam the house, check on Tin, drink some water and then I head back to bed and breathe myself into sleep.
What are the mechanics that set the first spinning disk in motion that then jumps to another disk, and why is fear perched so readily to catch the thoughts that flow off the first disk and is any of it important to explore or best to ignore and perhaps I shouldn’t consider any of this at all but just watch these thoughts and fears drift by like clouds in the sky.
A friend shared this poem.
psalm 88: one of these nights
just like they say:
it’s always worse at night.
the shadows lengthen
and once again the dread slowly starts
its nighttime creep.
it’s really quite the routine,
this nocturnal dance of mine
go ahead, enjoy the show –
i’m sure it must amuse you
the way I thrash through the night,
sheets coiling tighter and tighter
around my throat like
some demented night serpent
faithfully returning every night
to feed on my fears.
one of these nights though
when you least expect it,
the joke will be on you
that’s right i know you’re there
do you really think i can’t see you
lurking offstage in the shadows,
enjoying the nightly entertainment?
oh yes, my latest act
is opening soon and
i just can’t wait to see
the startled confusion on your face
when i finally stop struggling,
spread open my hands,
and sing psalms of praise to you:
the one who hides
in the darkness.