Consciousness: that annoying time between naps. ~Author Unknown
Last weekend I got to enjoy watching young Owen (18 months) sleep the afternoon away. After a very short messing about, he got so still and stayed that way for more than two hours. He was so still, so calm. His body was so relaxed and present in some strange way. I thought it was beautiful. When Owen woke up, kind of slow, but happy, he seemed to take delight in seeing his stuff surrounding him. Smiles, and ews and ahs ... his delightful comments about the things he cares about. It is like he drew his world around him again.
Over the last few days the same thing has been happening to me. I am beginning to get a new thought about this kind of sleep. This past year has been a curious one as I have moved in and out of pneumonia, surgery, and now chemo therapy, I am remembersing some of my awakenings. It is as if the minute before there was no me, no world ... just body. Each of these times are so different from most when I wake up full of thought, axiety, excitement, restlessness, tired, etc. etc. I wake up to my brain, not my body!
I think there must be times when the body just takes over and puts everything conscious and sub conscious on hold. I like these times! I am no expert here so I give way to my imagination. I remember watching a Nova film about children growing. They don't grow gradually, but in spurts. It can be true that your son is 1.5 inches taller one day from the next! I bet the body puts the mind to rest when it is doing this stretching and drawing forth, modeling the seeds sprouting forth, working their way up from the rich soil of possibility.
I have been told that sleep heals and I have tried to be patient with the time it takes. Mostly I have succeeded, especially when I have the "body at rest" type. It is so wonderful. Such a miracle to wake up and wrap my complete world around me again... fresh and unemcombered. I know now that I am in chemo, that the treatment itself might be killing off some of my healthy cells that make me tired and anemic. So, I am watchful. And appreciative that there is real comfort and peace in the midst of fighting this cancer.
I have two and one half months of 2008 to go. I will have completed my chemo on the 29th of December! Really one full year of a different world ... sometimes complex and frightening, sometimes angry and petulent, sometimes interesting and curious and sometimes so peaceful that I have come to understand bliss in a new way.
My Dad died of Alhimzer's desease. He had it for a long time. Sometimes he was so still just as young Owen was last weekend and I am sometimes now. I would watch him sit in a chair unmoving for hours. I like to think he was relaxed and unknowing of the norm, just gestating and somewhat blissful in between the times we woke him up and asked him to come be with us for a while.
I fully expect 2009 to be a more awake year. There is work to do. We will have a new president and lots of work to dig ourselves out of the messes created. There is opportunity.
Ocassionally, I will find ways to have those totally blissful - no where, no time, no mind - sleeps as well.