I can’t sleep. Well, that is not completely accurate. I can sleep for about 4 to 5 hours then I am awake. Wide awake. Some eternal alarm has gone off and my brain is raring to go. (My body is so very unhappy with my brain.)
This is not a new phenomenon for me. I have dealt with this all throughout my life. Usually it means that I have something weighing on me, am too stressed or I have some creative urge that needs expressing that just cannot seem wait.
I believe this current bout of alertness is because I do not have enough time alone. Enough time and space where there is absolute no outside input. Also, I am in a pretty huge creative flux and these tend to make me restless. A powerful combination of internal need .
So here I am at 3:58 in the am pst sitting on my comfortable couch in front of a roaring fire all cozy and toasty and quiet. (nice huh) The only sound is the keyboard and the crackling of the fire. Absolute bliss, I can hear myself loud and clear. Can follow a whole and complete thought process all the way through.
I can sit here and stare into the fire for the minute or three it might take catch the hint of the next thread from that initial spark of an idea all the way down to its conclusion or at least right up against the next thread.
I have been playing this need of mine and the time I have to chisel out of my life to get it, as a luxury and not a necessity. Recently in a conversation with a friend who has this same issue, ( I believe, there are a few of us ) we realized that we were portraying this all wrong. Since we both make our living around being creative than it would stand to reason that time for introspection, time to observe, time to process would be not just necessary but crucial. I would not be able to support my family without this time to be inspired by the world around me. The time to then process this stimulus and communicate it through whatever medium is my current canvas.
The practical parts of life often take priority over this need. Running a business and a family, being a wife, a friend, a mother. I find it compelling and a bit disturbing, that although I seem to realize this as a crucial part of making this all work. I still do not list it as a practical part of it all. I am not seeing it thoroughly enough as something that makes the other pieces richer, deeper and whole, or to even exist.
Where would we be without this part of life-truly? I for one would be up the proverbial creek without a paddle. Where would we be without the color, poetry and music of life? What would our days and worlds look like? I know one thing, some of us would be knitting with white yarn. Yikes!
The other natives here are stirring so it must be time to be practical.