Sleeping habits

I've been noticing a few things upon waking to the sunshiney world morning after morning. Things that I must do in my sleep but of course am unaware of such actions as I am asleep. Thus I can only make guesses from information gathered after rising from slumber.

I rotate clockwise. 

(I basically unravel all my sheets in one direction and send them plummeting to the ground)

I switch places with my body pillow. 

(I wake up on the other side of my body pillow than originally arranged)

I somehow push the mattress away from the wall. 

(when making my bed faithfully every morning I have to push it back up to the wall so my pillows don't disappear into the black hole behind my bed)

I pretend to eat suckers. 

(Carrie, my roommate, tells me that she hears noises that sound like I'm sucking on a sucker or eating quite noisily)

I write music in my dreams and hum it to Carrie.

(Pretty self-explanatory...)

I sometimes remove items from about my person. 

(nothing scandalous, things like earplugs, socks, etc)

I'm a really light sleeper and always have been. All my roommates, siblings and most especially my lovely mother can attest to this. 

It's a wonder I can do all these without waking myself up. 

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Dream big

Dreams, butterflies in the azure sky. Floating, lilting, playing in the soft downy clouds. Beautiful bright colors gleaming on their backs in the morning sun's rays. Nothing can reach them but a child on wings. Children are their caretakers, treating their fragile wings with gentle care and love.

Adults stay to the hard, cold ground to which they cling. They're really grown up caretakers that have stopped using their wings and grasped 'reality' tightly in their fists. Fear guides them now.

One such grownup child sits. She is small and few take notice of her. Her wings are broken. Her's is a lucky story however. She can still see the butterflies and her own wings. Most grownup children forget to look for either of them anymore.

Everyday she stares with hope and yearning at the beautiful orange butterfly dancing above her little spot on the ground. So close and yet so very far away. Her eyes shining and sparkling she beckons her desired treasure near. But it will not do. Dreams cannot get that close to the ground or they will die. And so each sunset ends with tears of sadness.

A little blond child stops and watches her reaching skyward with curiosity and compassion on his little smudged face. Gallantly, he offers his wings to her. Her excitement is beyond belief. She doesn't even notice his tattered clothes and matted hair.

She leaps into the blue. Her day in the sky is magical. She dances around clouds and amidst oceans of dreams and laughter. Her special friend is the little orange butterfly perched on her slight shoulder. Even as midnight colors and bright twinkling fairies blanket the sky, she wants to stay but the nice little boy must be missing his wings. She drifts down on fluttering wings to where he sits. His face is beloved to her now and always will be. With tears in her eyes she carefully hands the precious wings back to her savior. He kindly accepts.

He hands her wings to her. They are no longer broken. He has fixed them just for her. She wraps her arms around him in the best hug she has ever given. A small movement catches her eye. The little orange butterfly is falling to the ground from her shoulder.

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Wanderlust

My bag is packed. Selected and designed to get me to my journey's end.  I open the door. The first step is always the hardest, the leaving part. But yet not the hardest. The excitement for adventure in me makes it easy. I step onto the road to test my true endurance.

The road is long. I've known it for some time. Prepared in every way possible. But what awaits me, is beyond my comprehension. I've only heard stories and fairy tales of the place at the end of this road. I must get there. The desire in my heart and the strength in my soul begs me to reach out for it. Despite the promised dangers that lay in wait and the strain on my mortal body, I travel.

Thirsting and starving. Stumbling, weary, and travel worn. I stop. Only for a time. I am alone on the road. I find a stream heading the same direction I am. The cool water refreshes me and I eat my bread to strengthen me. The night is coming.

Much must be done to prepare myself for the long night. Shelter is thrown up and a fire lights a small circumference around me. I sleep for a time.

Noises coming from the dark. I've been taught to stay in the light. The creatures of the night don't bother with fire and its company. But sleep is hard to come by with the fear and anticipation of what lay beyond my eyes' seeing. The fear gathers inside me and I doubt the sun's rising. But just the slightest glimmer on the eastern horizon sparks hope in my heart.

The road stumbles me. My small torch only shows me so far ahead. Many times I climb huge obstacles and other times I walk sluggish through dense forest. But always my mind remembers where I'm going. And who will be there waiting.

I've reached the mountain. My destination lies beyond. With determination I reach up and take hold. My load weighs me down at times but it is essential for me to keep it close. Climbing requires all my strength and fortitude. Sometimes I run out. But Someone's hands push me forward or lift me up when I get caught.

Right now I must struggle on. The hardest part of my journey is stretched up before me. I have come a long way. But more is required if I am to reach this place. My heart yearns for it. Although my body is weak, strength will come.

Nothing can stop me but myself.

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Skyline

Euphoria. Flying, soaring, tumbling. Other waves crash all around me. But I can fly! I feel the air beneath me as I surge forward. I can almost touch the sky with his billowing clouds and huge blue eyes. Laughing and giggling I swerve away from his tickling fingers.

Dolphins leap and splash all around me as they play. They are a gift from my mother. She sends all sorts of creatures to her little ones. We might get lonely this far away from her.

I come close to my sister waves. We collide and bounce all around each other. Together we build higher and faster. Nothing stands in our way. Ships avoid us. Sea creatures join us.

Oh the power of our unity!

Surging forward, the elation drives me to the heights beyond the clouds. With those around me I feel secure and profoundly strong. I can't help but beam my happiness at the sun sitting up in his universal realm where all the lights play and dance. Sometimes they come and join in our frivolity down on the earth. Alighting on our wings and floating to secret places.

Cliffs. Our most challenging obstacle. At most our force combined can chip off small slivers. Pounding the hard surface of the earth is a grueling task. She is unyielding and stubborn. It is hard on all of us. But it must be done. It is what is required of us. We push and strain against her solid barrier. Some of my brothers and sisters can't make it. Our ranks never dwindle.

Some pull back for a time...

but the rest of us push forward even harder.

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Monsters, beasts and the like

I listen carefully as I wait for them. They always come when it's the darkest. When I can't see them, only then will they come. The thud of my heart drowns out their coming, but I can feel them all around me. I can feel their empty souls. Ugly and lacking in light.

I try to elude them but the darkness is theirs. I kick and punch with all my might but nothing I do seems to faze them. My strength is being spread too thin. Too many.

Slowly they infiltrate the small space inside me. I scream but no sound comes out. The more space they take up...the harder it is to push them back out. They are cold and spiky. Prickly. My body crunches into a tiny ball, trying to squeeze them out. But somehow they've found more space to occupy. They reach into the parts of me that are weak and try to break anything they can.

Weakness. I can feel it piling up. How easily they found it all. How abundant it has become. There is no hope within me. It must come from outside. Anything.

Eternity drags by as the skirmish continues. Repetitive fears and worries flung around the room. Good always prevails...my time is coming...

Light. The Sun.

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Bye bye plane

I cradled the air around my niece as she climbed up the old orchard ladder. Her intent on reaching the very top with all the bravery of a two year old, was steadfast. She most certainly didn't need any help from me. She informed me she could do it all by herself (that didn't stop me from adding my protection nonetheless...).
 
She reached the step almost at the end of my reach so I clamped my hand on her ankle, effectively ending her assent. Every time she reached that point she would look around and with a grin brighter than the sun on her face, she would say "I can see anything I want to!" To my mind (all of 22 years of experience in the art of thinking, thank you very much) that was obviously impossible but in her mind (only 2.5 years absent from heaven) everything was still so very possible.

A plane flew by overhead, a mere speck against the vast blue sky. My beautiful little niece gasped and waved to it exclaiming, "Bye! Bye! Plane! I will see you tomorrow! And we will fly!" I was struck by the fantastic thought. How big the world is for one so small. Her dreams weren't separated from her reality.

The obstacles in our lives are hard. A lot of them are painful and very trying. Just as this ladder was quite a feat for the 2 year old, it was also an opportunity. She could see so much more at that height than she ever could at ground level and it didn't matter to her that she had to climb, in fact she was happy to do it. Every time we hit an obstacle, it is just another ladder to climb. We have to learn what it takes to climb it, what we need to pull out of ourselves to get to the top. Then we can say "I can see anything I want to!" We can reach our potential a ladder at a time! The higher we climb the more of the valley* of our lives we can see.

My niece luckily did not climb that ladder alone (or else I would have words from her mother and I probably still will...) nor do we have to climb our ladders alone. All of us experience the need for independence especially when those around us offer their help but just think...we always have that one Person who will never let us climb alone no matter our protests. Christ* is our spotter. He will always make sure we get to the top safely. Always.

Then when we have no longer to climb...he helps us fly to our dreams.

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Scottish traveling

The rain splatters across my windshield. The wipers scrape a grating rhythm. Poor weather stripping makes loud air whistle to get inside. No sounds but for these, the rain and wind. Besides its setting, the sun has long been hidden behind inky wet clouds. Hills and mountains shrouded in billowing fogs.

My long drive from the "Welsh" city, made mysterious by the dark mists. Cars few and far between increase the stretch of darkness.

Misty Highlands from ancient times, feel close. Looking through the mist to the darkened hillsides, I can almost see long ago Scotsmen. Bagpipe reeds drone a melancholy melody through canyons and ravines. Kilts of various tartans and half cloaks blend in a bagand procession. A longing rises in me.

The lands of my ancestors. The British Isles where much of my heritage hailed from. There has always been a deep longing within me to see the green covered lands of lore. The luring pull of unseen places and beguiling stories of yore, entice my mortal existence to adventures.
 
To see my homeland, turned into such a place by spring rains, always turns my mind and heart to those lands that lie so far away.

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Golden delirium

I watch the little white fluffs coasting down from grey low-cast skies. Street lights cast a glow of gold across the white terrain, almost beguiling me. 

But I'm no fool. 

There is no warmth on the other side of the double-paned glass that I look through. It is a false type of gold. 

Hell's gold.

The real gold won't come for a long while it seems. The presence of cold and slushy snow drifts acts to push back its coming. 

The world has been subjected to this cool silver season for a small eternity. Every year it seems to last longer than the winter prior. And colder. It's always colder than the last roll around. 

Heat. 

That's what I look forward to. Hot molten sunlight saturating my skin and hair. Inhaling spicy summer air, warming my frozen soul. Gold and lively green hues surrounding me and feeding my dull spirit. Sunlight reaching into every dark corner and refurbishing the winter dilapidated happiness.

To run through fields of lush green grass chasing balls and frisbees. To catnap in sunlight's warm embrace. To accompany nature's inhabitants through morning's first waking, along deer trails and mountainsides. To explore the wilderness of a hidden grove. To lay in repose, watching the clouds drift lazily across an ocean-blue sky. To watch tiny seedlings swell to adulthood in the sun's daily presence. To lose yourself in the pink and white frothed orchards.

These are what I hunger for and every winter I'm left wanting. Starving.

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misericordia Domini inter pontem et fontent

The ground is hard. It hurt a lot when I fell on it. My mother had to let me go. I want to cry but I don't know how. I can't see her. I don't have eyes yet so life is dark around me. All I can do now is feel and listen.

My entire being shakes with the rumblings of the earth. Noises penetrate my protective shell. She gave me that protection when I was still with her. Days go by I think. I feel the warmth of the Big Light each passing day. He is essential to my growth. But I can't grow much right now. It isn't the right time.

It gets really cold for a long time. It's so hard to survive on my own. Luckily the Light still comes around. It's nice to have someone to rely on. Whenever He shines through the snow I know I can make it at least one more day through the bitterness. Sometimes I just wish that I could grow all the way and be done with this stagnation. But the whisperings of my genetic coding cautions me to continue my dormancy. I do not understand the world around me yet so in order to survive this frail existence I must abide.

I don't know how long that part of my life lasts but I feel the snow melt around me. The warming soil lets me sink down into its protective depths. The voice of my instinct nudges me and whispers encouragement for my future.

It's time to grow.

Time has no measurement in my life. But it is of the essence that I am timely. My size seems to expand and I press against the walls surrounding me.  The protection of my shell has always been such a comfort to me, but I must not be restrained. With all of my might I burst through and see warm darkness. The warmth is a promise of seeing my old friend the Light.  

My roots sink deep into the Light-warmed earth and I anchor myself here. I soak up the living water and essential nutrients that saturates the warmth. I can almost feel my body filling with light. I have so much growing to do.

The surface is near. I can feel the air touching part of my searching fingers.

I break the surface. I have eyes. So many eyes. To see the world and the Light and His brightness all around me. I can't take it all in fast enough. There is so much wonder. I stretch out my first arms and devour the brightness from the outstretched rays of the Light. My entire body leaps into growth almost like a fire burning! I grow as many arms and hands as I can. I want to be closer to Him. It seems like such a hard thing to do. But every little piece of my body yearns to get closer to the Light.

Sometimes huge creatures move past. I see them ingesting the bodies of some of my family. This scares me but I push past my seedling fears to keep growing. I can see that I am still smaller than my mother. Her familiar love provides a canopy overhead. I see in her my own potential. Can I really get that enormous?

The voice that is always with me, my guide and my protector, fills my tiny mortal with hope.  It tells me of my future. I look within and see...the possibility of Me.

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Sounds of the Summer

I stand there in the open space. My eyes are already closed and I take in a breath of warm summer air. I smell the spicy heat and the nearby alfalfa. The knee-length grass brushes my legs and the sun*s rays warm my skin. Lost in the laziness of the warm season my mind loses the need for focus and busyness. The warmth soaks into my body and my entire being is at peace.

The sounds of summer bombard my ears. The whine of traveling cars is a distant overtone to the ensemble. Tractors in the fields discing and swarthing; rumbling through their life*s work. Lawn mowers humming in nearby yards. The drone of an airplane flying low over the alfalfa fields echoes off the face of the mountain.

But beneath man*s sounds rings nature*s call. Crickets; hiding in their secret places; give evidence to their location; chirping a summer melody. Meadowlarks warble and sing their songs. The wind tumbles and plays through orchards; rustling the leaves. The cawing of magpies adds the brass to the animal symphony.

My puppy*s barking jolts me from my warm musings. The biting cold of the winter reality tingles on my exposed cheeks. A sigh escapes my lips. Winter is a time for nostalgia.

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Hazy

I fall down from the sky and creep down the mountains through canyons and ravines. My fingers seep into every crack, every orifice as I spread my being across the valley. Darkness is my friend and best companion and we give protection to those who seek it.

My thickness blocks out the sun and the sky. I surround and cover everything beneath me. I take chill and ice with me wherever I go. In the winter time I leave marks of the fabled 'Jack Frost' along railings and windows. My breath slips through leaks in buildings and touches every living thing. I am relentless. I cling to every surface that I can, drawing the warmth out of everything I touch. I have no substance but I am a wall.

No one can see what I hide. I hide the lovers' trysts. I hide the thief's scheming. I hide the world from every eye. No one knows what can hold me. The sky can only hold me for so long. I am wild and free. No one can control me. No one can stop me. No physical hand has power over my spirit.

I am what makes lake's mysteries stay mysterious. I am what shrouds the countryside with charm. I am cause for a poet's passion in a poem. I am the listless feeling of the clouds. I am the cap of a mountain. I am the warning of an ocean storm. I am the yore of the Scottish glens. I am in the morning. I am in the winter. I am in the cool spring.

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Animal symphony

My eyes open unwillingly. It is still dark. My brain is alert instantly. What is going on? My body remains in its exact position. No need to move. Since it's still dark, just go back to sleep. Shut again, my eyes try to pull the brain back to blessed sleep. No, that would be too easy. My brain runs its gears and stumbles through pointless thought. Why am I awake? The rest of my body grumbles and tells the control center not to worry about it. This is silly. It doesn't matter. 

Oh the curse of being a light sleeper. Really anything can wake me out of deep slumber, even rolling myself over in bed. So it is detrimental to try to figure out what is keeping me from going back to sleep. Because then I won't be able to forget it. That would be all that my tired brain would be able to think about. Blast. There it is again. Cock a doodle doo! So that's what's keeping me up. That tiny little fluff ball we call a rooster. It has to be like 4:30 in the a.m. What is this crazy male chicken thinking? Cock a doodle doo! The sun isn't even close to being up. We've got in the least a couple of hours. 

Maybe he'll come to his senses and stop soon. Cock a doodle doo! Nope. Of course he has to greet the blatantly missing sun every 20 seconds. Makes perfect sense. Cock a doodle doo! Ugh! I stuff my fingers in my ears and wait for sleep to help me relax. In which case I'll drop my hands and be awakened once again by the obnoxious rooster. 

An hour later I am cognizant again. Cock a doodle doo! Stupid, &*#%@# rooster!!! I'm pretty sure that murdering this hormonal birdbrain would make me very happy. I doubt that I would feel any regret in my decision... Cock a doodle doo! Dad is still in bed and he might think that he just got out and ran away from his little flock of adoring hens... Maybe not. Cock a doodle doo! Knives and a headless rooster were starting to seem like a really good idea.

Ruff! No. Way. Ruff! Ruff! If the neighbor's dog really thinks that he is going to get away with a misdemeanor like this...he is VERY wrong. Cock a doodle doo! Ruff! Ruff! I love nature. But not at 5:30 in the morning when I should be slumbering. In the day time I probably wouldn't even notice either of these sounds but because everything else is quiet and still, these sounds are amplified ten times over. Cock a doodle doo! What have I done to deserve this?! Ruff! Ruff!

It would seem that this one little feathered creature was waking all of the surrounding animals. The neighbor's horses began to nicker and paw at the ground. Minuscule sounds made huge in my overactive brain. 

Cock a doodle doo! Ruff! Nicker! Ruff! Pawwww! Ca Kaw!! That's it!!! With magpies, I draw the line! I'm getting a shotgun out of my dad's gun case. This war WILL end in  my favor. I sit upright with fury boiling my blood and fueling my weary body. 

Sudden silence. Was this a dream? Could it be they were waiting to torture me once I tried to close my eyes again? Hesitantly I lay my head on my pillow. Will this seeming silence last? Unused adrenaline still laces my veins... I close my eyes unwittingly, knowing that in just a short amount of time... I will be awakened again. But hunting is more than agreeable to me if these hooligans started their untimely singing again...

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