Last night I woke up with my mind running on about getting stuff done.
Before going to sleep, I had mapped out the next ten days and put things in my calendar to schedule writing time, appointments, what needs to happen first, second, third, tenth.
Now….I was excited, it felt pretty good.
Not scary really. Mostly confident that all I’m expecting and planning and organizing will unroll. Writing, working on keynote for a webinar, emptying the dishwasher, finishing the laundry, responding to emails, driving to the airport again to catch another plane.
But I’ve had times of waking in the night that weren’t so easy. Where I couldn’t go right back to sleep, like I did last night.
Once, there was a really agonizing bad-sleep time.
For nine months straight, I woke up every night at 3:30 am. Never to go back to sleep all the way to morning.
It was like something could not settle inside, no matter what I did.
Anxiety. Thinking. Worry.
During the sleepless time, I went to a weekend workshop with Byron Katie on relationships.
Right there at the workshop, I ran into a man I had been interested in dating. I moved quickly toward him as the workshop session ended, catching his elbow at the conference room exit doors.
He turned to me, but seemed cold and dismissive. I smiled and made friendly conversation, which fell like a lump of dung on the gold hotel hallway carpets as we walked next to each other surrounded by all the other exiting participants. We entered the bustling hotel lobby. He said with an irritated, tired voice that he didn’t want to talk or spend any time together, he preferred to be alone.
He stepped on an elevator, the white button dinging and shining to get on board if you’re headed up. I stayed on the shiny marble floors, and watched the elevator doors close as he turned around and caught my eye, with an uncaring, bland expression.
I waited for the next elevator going up.
But my heart was sinking down. Very far down.
I couldn’t go to sleep at all that night. I tossed, turned over, my mind racing frantically. I would shout at myself to shut up, stop thinking.
The next day, I asked Katie what to do if you can’t sleep.
She said, “How do you know you’re supposed to be awake? You are. Do The Work.”
My body felt nervous, slow, my eyes wanting to close off and on all day. I thought I’d sleep well that night. I saw the man who blew me off throughout the day, in various places in the room, alone or talking with people. I kept seeing him out of the corner of my eye.
I went to sleep pretty early. But then, 2:30 am. Awake.
Instead of lying there fuming about not sleeping, or wanting to cry with desperation….
….I decided to take Katie’s advice.
Do the work.
A girlfriend was sharing my hotel room, so I couldn’t just get up and turn on the light. I took my notebook out of my suitcase, felt around for a pen, and I went into the bathroom and sat on the toilet, closing the door softly.
I began to write.
I am enraged because he is so horrible to me. He ignores me, abandons me, he thinks I am shit. I want him to suffer. I want him to pay attention to me. I want him to wake up. I want him to care about me. He should stop being so selfish. He shouldn’t be such an asshole.
I let it rip.
Suddenly all that I was ever most afraid of came pouring forth.
I felt the same way about life, about God (whatever it was), about reality, about other men, about love, about my family.
It was like a lashing out of all my most terrifying beliefs about being alive here, and my expectations and hopes and despair. Emptiness, aloneness, fear, anxiety, abandonment.
My pen was making loud sounds on the paper, I was so furious I almost wanted to rip the notebook to shreds, break the pen. I couldn’t find words bad enough to say about “him”.
And there I had it. The truth of that festering, babyish, dark and terrified voice inside.
I began at the top, with the work.
I am all alone.
Is that really true?
No. There’s a toilet here with me, apparently (and it’s called my mind, haha)!
Who would I be without the thought that this is the worst moment I could possibly be having right now?
Sitting in a bathroom at 3:50 am with no sleep, raging energy, and a big mirror where I can see myself writing….a great moment?
Yes.
I turned the thoughts around: I am not alone, this is awesome, this is explosive, this is healing, it’s fantastic to be awake, I’d WIDE AWAKE, I’m free, I do not need anyone to do anything, and that includes paying any attention to me whatsoever.
I’m being spared.
I’m with me. I am the best partner, lover, friend, companion, loyal, trusted advisor I’ve ever had. I am my own best friend.
I am enraged because my thoughts have been so horrible to me. I ignored myself, abandoned myself, I think I’m shit. I wanted to suffer. I wanted me to pay attention to myself. I wanted me to wake up. I wanted me to care about myself. I should stop being so selfish. I shouldn’t be such an asshole.
Sighing and laughing, all at once. All true.
“As the brokenness calls to you, as the doubts sing their crazy song, as stories cascade like oceans, remember that the very homesickness you try to push away is actually inviting you to your true Home, Here and Now, prior to all earthly homes….Raging doubts are explosions of supreme intelligence, calling you to deep trust in your own first-hand experience, and a fearless plunge into the constant embrace of the Unknown.” ~ Jeff Foster
Later, sleeping happened. First one day, then two, then every night, then almost all the time very sound, deep sleeping. Changing and shifting at times, alarms or late nights or awakeness sometimes, but mostly the sweetest easiest deep sleeping.
And if I’m sleepless, I know what to do.
Love, Grace