In the wee small hours of the morning, when I find it difficult to sleep, I rise from bed and tiptoe into the living room, tap the base of a small lamp, pick up the book I'm in the middle of reading, settle into the rocking chair and immerse myself in a different world. It's during these times that worries retreat to a faraway place, so far away that when my eyelids finally start drifting downward, my only thought is to get back to bed before I fall on the sofa fast asleep.
These kind of nights have started to happen a bit more frequently of late. To what do I attribute these sleepless episodes? I'm at a place and age in my life where worrying seems to be walking toward center stage. My life has been an extraordinary ride, full of excitement, wonder, good times, good health, lots of laughter and much happiness... intermingled with those times that are filled with sadness that happen to everyone.
So, during some of those wee small hours, the book gets put aside and I start talking with myself, having a two-way conversation, you know..... one of those "On the one hand....", then "On the other hand...." Sometimes those conversations take me all over the place, sometimes they stay right on point, on one particular area of worry. I've yet to come up with any perfect solutions or clear cut answers to the myriad of questions these conversations raise. But sometimes, once in a while, the conversation crystalizes enough for me to tap the worry down a bit and convince myself that I or we will get through whatever it is that has to be tackled. Somewhere, deep down, strength seems to wend its way to the fore, clear my head at least for a while and I feel once again in command.
Wherever I got that strength from I am thankful that so far it has appeared when I need it the most.
So, what do you do in the wee small hours?
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