Tonight, after an evening of festive celebration, it is late . . . and sleep calls. This whole past week, I’ve been sleeping early and reflecting on sleep.
I have realized that one must feel safe to sleep.
Beyond the typical causes of insomnia (like busy mind, physical pain, or worries), there is also this: to sleep a person must feel safe—on all levels, physical to energetic.
To sleep is to trust
In order to relax the amygdala (our little scanning system that is always checking for dangers) and sooth our whole lizard brain enough to confidently kick off from the edge of the pool and float in the deep waters of dreams and the great abyss, well . . . this takes trust.
To sleep is to trust.
To sleep is to let go. . . not just of our consciousness and ego-directing of our day, but of our whole selves. To sleep is to say . . .
. . . I am safe to close my eyes. I trust my surroundings.
. . . My bed will hold me, and I will not fall.
My bed will hold me, and I will not fall.
. . . The Earth will keep rotating, and the tides will keep rolling if I go off duty now and rest.
. . . I trust that someone else in the world has got this tonight. I can let go.
. . . I can hand this over now. I can be here. My cozy bedding holds me safely.
. . . The sun will come again tomorrow, and there will be a new day.
. . . I can give up my daytime whirl. It is safe to turn off the lights.
The Earth will keep rotating,
and the tides will keep rolling
if I go off duty now
. . . I trust the vast expanse, and I am resting now . . . in moon time . . . free of focussed brain and busy body . . . opening up to the watery, dreamtime of spacious mind.
. . . I give up what could not be done and give in to what is not yet formed, trusting that all is ultimately alright.
I give up what could not be done
and give in to what is not yet formed,
trusting that all is ultimately alright.
. . . I enter this little surrender to slumber with courage . . . am ready to be a resting warrior, holding my seat with a tender, brave heart and soft eyes . . . whatever may come, I am aware.
. . . And then even this awareness eases . . . .relaxes . . . releases . . . gives it all up.
. . . And the I goes . . . to . . . sleep. And the tides keep rolling, and the the Earth keeps rotating, and somewhere far away, but near, the day is already beginning anew.
PHOTO CREDIT: Chan Hoi on Unsplash