Sleep continues to be a troubling thing, which is nothing new but still annoying as last week I had two or three nights of (for me) totally blissful rest. For several weeks now I remember more dreams, some are easy to figure out, others clearly are the twisted version of a brain dump.

Tonight I hope to attempt sleep at a reasonable hour but for now I hear the rain hitting the side of house, slapping against hardy foliage that is still on bushes. Early this morning the light was a soft gray outside the window but I declined to rise at that hour. Mid morning, while the light was bright I did a new path for my 3 mile walk, noting the piles of leaves on the curb, left I suppose for a sweeper machine to gather them. Today, as most days, the wind lifted off the top layers of the piles like someone ruffling a child's hair, or turned a random grouping of dessicated flora into a circle dance traveling down the street until the spiral unwound itself and they scattered once more as if they had never engaged in joyous movement.

On the path in Silver Lake Park the river occasionally rushed in places, adding to the ambient noises that were my soundtrack. The leaves crunched and crumbled under my feet. Unlike a lot of people these days, I walk with no little corded buds stuck in my ears. At least not yet. It give me a chance to purposely avoid all media, and often all conversation, to just be, to let my mind wander. It struck me that it is like a form of meditation, one that works for me. Today's realization: I tend to not perseverate on my faults, my worries, my fears. It would seem that my walks have more than one health benefit, what a happy find. Once in a while there was a tiny flash of rain, not even a sprinkle, more like a mist yet the sky was bright.

As I tackled the last incline once I was back on the road I gave myself credit for sticking with my walking goals. I also thought about how much I like taking care of myself. Later the sky went a deeper gray, the sun in hiding and I thought how long a day really is, how many moods the sky has in daylight. Just like me.

Now I feel mostly relaxed, hopeful about sleep, and looking forward to next steps of all kinds.

But wait there's more on sleep!

It's true I'm obsessed about sleeping because I am never not tired these days. Okay sometimes I have felt totally enthralled and awake. Mostly at camp, and yes JBeeky I will post some photos soon because thanks to you I actually took a few.

That first night three weeks ago in Northampton I was sitting in Adrienne's living room doing something.. when it because clear that a storm was passing over. I love thunder and lightening storms and miss them terribly in California. Did you know they are a rare thing in the Bay Area? I was shocked and saddened to learn that when I moved here. Here I was my first night on the east coast and the sky lit up purple for me, thunder rumbled like a very large cat. Lifting myself from the sinky goodness of the couch I went out on the tiny porch. Seriously it's maybe 4 feet wide by the length of the house, which is not great. I curled myself into a chair and watched the sky change colours for seconds at a time, listened to the shimmering sound of leaves imitating the musical sounds of paliettes on a dancers' hips while she shimmies. Soon after I crawled back the couch and went to sleep, actually had a good night sleep. The next night was lovely as well. Sunday night Adrienne and I shared a bed in a Mot*l 6 in Portland as we choose to drive up a bit early and wander Portland in the morning before heading to Poland Spring. It took awhile for my brain to shut down (not an uncommon experience for me) but I slept fairly well.

The first two nights at camp were FREAKING cold. As in I slept in a cabin, albeit uninsulated and unheated, but still a building like thing. I wore a lot of clothing, in a sleeping bag with the other sleeping bag as a blanket over me. I was still cold. The next night I was like a burrito in a kids' mummy sleeping bag, inside the generously sized one, still wearing socks, sweats and two tops. Cold I tell you! Luckily things warmed up and I even slept nekkid in my tent a couple times with just one sleeping bag. Let me tell you this is a rare treat in late August in the state of Maine. The last two nights were the same as the first two. Damn cold.

I returned to Northampton, to an empty house. Adrienne and the boys were away and I enjoyed the sweet quiet of no one for almost 24 hours. Slept on the couch again but not as restfully. Tuesday night I was finally in my own bed, next to my beloved, circled and trapped by my cats. It was muscle cramping bliss I tell you. I slept hard. Really hard. I never heard TGF come into the bedroom, never noticed she turned off the tv. Never heard her get up to deal with animals in the middle of the night. Nada. Absolutely unheard of for me. The only other time such things happen is my first good sleep after attending a long birth.

Sleeping is still a problem and I suspect will remain so forever. Some nights are better than others. TGF has been having a TERRIBLE time. So bad that on Friday she said she literally felt like she was losing her mind because of the lack of rest. The stress is knocking us both off like crazy. I expect to be exhausted for at least another month or two without much reprieve.

Musing on Sleep

As reflected in a recent post, sleep is not an easy nor particularly restful thing for me. It is true that the truly deep exhaustion I felt last year around this time is not as present. As I am about to head to Dance New England, I hope that bone tired feeling stays at bay.

I have a tendency to have vivid and numerous dreams which leave me feeling as drained upon waking as I did when I slipped underneath the covers and sidled up to TGF. It is hard for me to remember when I last slept hard enough for days in a row that I do not remember waking up, albeit briefly, at least 3 times a night which is more the norm. Further complicating "restorative sleep" as Lindsay likes to call it in those damn commercials is the fact that a selection of cats like to cuddle up to me. Often I have Atticus followed by Gemma sleeping between my legs and the other hunkered against my butt or calves.

When the recent stress is figured in, it's rather amazing I am functional at all. Keeping all of this in mind, I wondered if I had lost my mind when I booked a red eye flight to the east coast. I spent days telling myself if I can sleep on the plane all will be good. However that was a silly thing since I absolutely cannot sleep well in a moving vehicle, especially if I am not horizontal. Clearly this was another matter of deluding myself "for the greater good" and hoping that I could trick myself into something that is against my nature.

The odds were against me. Only if I can the three seats across so I can curl up (this is where being short comes in handy) do I really sleep anything like soundly on a plane. The seat I had about 24 hours ago was on the aisle of the center 3 seats next to a man who was wearing so much cheap cologne I had a headache which came and went for two hours. Then there were all the chatter in my head: the things I had forgotten to bring; worry over the move; could I find a cheap air mattress since I decided not bring mine; would Adrienne have a sleep bag I could borrow; what the hell was Adrienne's new address anyways; and so on ad infinitum. In an attempt to get some napping in I used the strategy TGF employs regularly - the droning sound of the television. I snagged the headphones and plugged into some movie with Richard Gere about a scam job involving a book about Howard Hughes.

I reflected again how a friend is still peeved about a now ex-lover who wanted to sleep all night long in each other's arms. It surely is an overly romantic vision of love but also a terrible thing to demand of someone when it means they will sleep horribly. Personally I might have strangled the person for suggesting it as a real versus in a "wouldn't it be kinda fun to do that thing they show in the movies but never really happens" way. Not only can I not deeply fall asleep in any position remotely like sitting up, but I cannot if I am in someone's arms, or even facing them! Actually it goes deeper than that - I have turn away completely, I can't even face their back. Eventually, without fail I have to face "out", away from my lover. It is like an intrinsic escape plan sort of response that has been with me for as long as I can remember. Even when sleeping alone I face out. Except for that one apartment where the long side of the bed was against exposed brick and I loved the feel of the brick against my bare feet as I slept positioned much like a right angle bracket for a shelf.

Some people can sleep anywhere and feel rested. Some can "cat" nap easily, almost like hypnotizing themselves and sleep for some predetermined time. Many days I envy those people. But I never envy those who think sleeping in their lover's arms all night is love personified.

Is this what a hangover feels like?

It was a terrible night for me. Three bad dreams in one night, seriously! I woke up totally raggedy, hazy, and thought, I think this must be what a hangover feel like. No, I have never been hung over. And no I am not a tea totaler. I have drunk a fair amount in my past, a much bigger drinker in my youth than these days. Now it takes some time to get my tolerance up but it's not something I strive to do. Really I have never woken up feeling like the lights are too bright, every noise is too loud and dog assed tired after drinking. Perhaps after some other, ahem, interesting nights but not because I drank a lot.

The dreams faded one by one in terms of clarity. By the time I finally dragged myself out of bed after dream three and proceeded to make coffee, quite clumsily I might add, the images faded. The details, the actual quotes blew away like the seeds from dandelions in a wind storm. It reminded of when Piper goes "orbing" but stumbles once returning the "real" world, to recall anything about it.

The first dream was kind of like fun and bizarre Fellini ride with two odd, sort of homeless like men attaching themselves to TGF and I. We wandered around and I know there were interesting conversations that occured. But suddenly it all went very badly. I was experiencing a total mental breakdown. Going crazy was a physical as well as psychological experience in the dream. It was a weird awareness of knowing I was totally losing control. It was very unpleasant.

Next up was an odd phone call with my brother. I haven't actually spoken to my brother in years. No real reason, he just isn't very social and a workaholic who makes a fortune. There is eleven years between us and he has a twin sister who he gets all his sibling needs met through. My sister and I do stay in intermittent contact. Anyway, he has been on my mind because we are considering asking him to be an investor in our our first house flip. In the dream he alternated between friendly and a bit suspicious - even asking me if I had an ulterior motive for calling. In addition there were times it seemed like he left the phone putting our sister and then our father on. Very weird.

The last dream was like a really, REALLY dark episode of Charmed, complete with an evil spirit taking over a character who might have been a bride. The bride character was a cross between Piper and my dear, dear friend Abby. I was trying stave off chaos, discovery of a dead body and saving the bride. The finale was me trying everything I could think of to reawaken the good spirit in the bride to save her and everyone from impending doom. In involved a spell (go figure) that used the word Maderia, or Medera? Not sure but I think if was supposed to be the name of a woman. Oh yeah and there was a black lacy veil which I danced with when everything was righted.

One of these days i might get a restful night of sleep. It's something I get about every 3-8 days. The rest of the time I wake a lot, have too many dreams to feel rested, or something. Like waking up at 6am after falling asleep after 1am - that was the other day, maybe Saturday. Yeah Saturday I got up and worked. Sent 30 work emails by the time TGF got up. Those commercials with Abraham Lincoln and the beaver really touch a nerve, let me tell you.