Why do I find myself writing in the early hours of the morning? What prompts me to start cooking at midnight or decide to redesign one of my websites under cover of darkness? At 46 years of age, you'd think I'd heed the warnings that running on four hours of sleep a night isn't healthy for a body pushing middle age.
Still, there is a hunger to make useful most of the time that has been handed to me in this life. As a young child I feared death not because I saw it as an end, but because I envisioned myself lying in a box for eternity in a perpetual state of boredom. Ever the vivid dreamer, even my nights don't afford much quietude. Awake or asleep, my mind seeks refuge from inertia.
So I find myself seized at odd hours with poetic thoughts that must be documented, desires for eggplant lasagna that must be satisfied, and fears that my time is running out - even if I've 40 more years left.
I fight that ticking tyrant, will it to slow while I figure out who I'm going to be when I finally grow up - this 46-year-old who still feels like a kid on the inside (and most days on the outside, too). I console myself that many folks have made their mark late in life, and that there's still time for me to accomplish some great purpose.
Then, I remind myself of the many small acts I perform that make a difference to someone each day. I resolve to retire for the night... as soon as I water the plants, do a few loads of laundry, and take out the garbage destined for morning pick-up... four hours from now.
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The Art of Writing Forewords
4 weeks ago
2 comments:
You're an Indigo, aren't you? :) Although I find I'm stifled by the hectic pace of my life (yeah, I know, I need to declutter that...) and I'm perpetually exhausted, my tendency is to selfishly cling to those dark hours when the house is asleep and not clamoring for pieces of me. I resent having to sleep at all sometimes, and my body and I are forever in an argument about it. One Friday, after a week straight of 3 and 4 hours-per-night of sleep, by body revolted and actually refused to get out of bed. I had to call in sick. I still hate giving in and find I work best when I can work on writing or art at midnight or 1 AM, my mind free from the weight of worrying about the alarm clawing me out of my sleep at 6 AM the next morning. But...those crazy 9-5 type jobs rarely let you wander in "just whenever". LOL
I suppose I am an Indigo, Areilla10. I used to drive my mother crazy when I'd show up by her bedside in the middle of the night, complaining that I had nothing to do. Of course, her response was a grumpy, "Go back to bed!"
Strangely, of my four children, only one ever napped for more than 45 minutes in an entire day!
Writing at night allows me to easily cross the veil between the conscious and subconscious minds without the fear of external noise disturbing the flow of ideas, but it's not for the denizens of the 9 to 5 life, is it?
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