Monday, September 5, 2016

The magic of sleep

From the time I was very small until maybe twenty years ago I was a difficult sleeper.  Once I went under, I was pretty much unwakeable until morning, but it was the process, the getting there, that caused the problem.
That hamster wheel in the brain would spin and spin, and when I finally reached the perilous edge of sleep, mental fists clenched,  my husband would suddenly vault out of bed or decide that Now would be a good time to come to bed, and FLING the covers back, and by the time he had settled himself I'd be wide awake and staring all over again.
Words would be spoken. Ugly words.

And then one day I decided to rearrange the bedroom one more time.  There is a fireplace in the room (called the "four oclock fireplace" because in the days of open fireplaces and bitter winters someone would venture upstairs in late afternoon to see if the rooms were chilly enough to warrant a small fire until bed time--I've done the same thing, in years past) and if you could see  your breath, you started a fire.  By this time, however,  we no longer needed a fire in the bedroom, thanks to three stoves downstairs and better insulation,  so I moved the bed across the room, blocking the fireplace, and thought no  more of it.

That night I climbed into bed, turned once or twice, and next thing I knew I was looking at the sun rising in the east window, which was now directly across the room from us in the new view.  Whoa. What. Just. Happened. Here.

If you've ever had bouts of insomnia, you can appreciate that feeling.  It happened again the next night, and the next, and twenty years later it is still happening. I never get over it.  All I can figure is it's some kind of Chinese placement, called F'eng Shui,  that directs you on bed placement, door and window positions, all of that,  and from what I've read, it seems I may have found it myself without realizing.   And in all my years of sleep problems, as I recall, I had never before slept facing east windows. East walls, yes. but never east windows themselves.

The downside is,  I'm afraid to move the bed.


  1. I never weary of it, it's not a bad way to start the day, no matter the weather.

  2. I love love love this post and I've been dying to get a word in....So here goes.
    I'm one of those who can drink a pot of coffee, lie down on a pile of jagged rocks,and go right to sleep. I'll take a nap when the mood strikes me just to show 'em. I can empathize tho as I've had the various insomniac partner over the years. The last one was particularly sensitive to noise and movement. So if I coulda solved it by moving the bed, done and done. Holy schmoley. Are you still able to get to sleep?

  3. Glad you finally made it. And thanks.

    Yep, I can still drop off very quickly. A lot has to do with where my head is at the moment, too. I realize that. That hamster wheel up there, some nights, just keeps turning.

    Those are the nights when I find that image of a closed door, take a few deep breaths, and disappear. If that doesnt work, I give up, go downstairs, and read. Some nights are just not meant to be.

    I must confess, I do wear earplugs, since the mister has become a snorer in his advanced age, and if I can't block that out forget the closed door, the deep breaths...

    I can empathize with being sensitive to noises and movement. Give me a solid thunderstorm, however, and I am out cold in two minutes.

    Coffee never kept me up either. Sometimes I think a lot of THAT is what some people expect rather than what they actually experience...