Most of you who read my blog with any regularity know that I am beset and bedeviled with insomnia from time to time. It is a curious “predicament” in which to be, because its affect on me is sort of counter-intuitive. It seems like I should always feel sleepy on the days that follow sleepless nights, and that sleepiness would only increase as the sleepless nights continue in succession. Yet, what seems to be happening to me is a constant desire and inner urge to write. The main problem with that is that at times, my writing gets less and less cogent, and my thoughts muddled and rather “far-flung” in a number of directions simultaneously.
Having experienced the “racing mind” syndrome in the past, I am aware that my current inner desire to write is quite different. As a matter of fact, the medication combo for Bi-Polar II disease that I have been taking for a couple of years has been amazingly and wonderfully effective at eliminating that problem, by and large.
Although I really miss sound sleep – and the remembered dreaming that I experience when sleeping in a more “normal” pattern, I’ve found that this particular episode of insomnia is actually yielding some interesting and valuable – at least to me – results. It also has some negative aspects: the constant physical fatigue, a “spotty” short-term memory, and fuzzy vision – even with my new lenses. I walk around, albeit slowly (composing poetry and prose as I walk), with red eyes and a sort of wild look; although the “wild” look is probably because I have forgotten to comb my hair.
But: you tell me – the following poem was written around 4 a.m. this morning:
On Lying Down
© 2011 Paula Tohline Calhoun
On lying down, in a bed I made
Books, magazines, lists of to-dos
Spread out haphazardly
In every empty space upon the sheets,
The pillows are stacked in invitation,
Waiting for me in soft anticipation
Of the time that I will lay me down
And not go to sleep.
Books call to be read
Mind-games to be played,
Notes cry out to be written.
My heart contracts, releases,
The blood of life flows on
Despite my willful ignorance,
That it will not always be like this.
Life ends, begins again.
On lying down, life/death/life
Revolves around, moves up and down.
Knowing that time is tenuous,
A temporary notion, created
For all of those who watch a clock.
The mechanism rules their lives,
Acting as though minutes, seconds
Days and years need hands.
On lying down, time is our toy,
Awake, engaged, time moves forward.
Dreaming or not, when we recline,
We are the master manipulators.
Time is in our hands, not perched
On some mantle, or circling our wrist.
Why willingly relinquish our hold,
To let time guide our hands?.
On lying down, we are un-wise.
Yet clock-wise, time’s hands move one way,
Or luminescent numbers, configured
By lines, predetermined and uniform,
Created by the reigning monarchs
Only to be governed themselves.
To such man-made devices
We yield our days.
On lying down, we are empowered.
Awake, alert, we follow as sheep.
But we have the power to live life by heart,
Knowing we can never be so free
As when we let go of time’s hands,
Existing unencumbered, freely turning,
Our minds and hearts freewheeling.
Ahead, back, side to side, in dimensions
Where time is unknown.
On lying down. “To sleep –
Perchance to dream,” or not –
We follow our own internal
Thoughts and wishes, needs and prayers.
We care not if time moves at all,
Because we all know, willfully or not,
We are rulers, enthroned on pillows.
Time is moot.
On lying down, each has the choice.
Dreaming, awake, it matters not,
To pay our rapt attention,
Ceding governance, to our invention.
Forgetting or remembering
We are the owners of our actions.
Schedules and obligations disappear,
On lying down.
On lying down, we are our own.
On lying down, we are alone.
On lying down, in our own place,
On lying down, at our own pace,
On lying down, time is displaced.
On lying down, time is replaced.
On lying down, bodies still,
On lying down, we’ve time to kill.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gentle Readers, I wish you all time to do as you dream, and enough. . .
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Excellent!
I enjoyed reading!
Amazing poetry ….Truly I have all of a sudden met with so many talented poets through Jingle poet blog …visit my blog and give your valuable comment please:-)
http://pure2core.wordpress.com/2011/05/26/love/
I love Jingle’s sites -they have been helpful and terrific links where I can try out some of my newer works. If you are ever interested in reading more of my poetry, let me know via e-mail: paulatc@hotmail.com/ I am working on putting together an anthology for publication, but I have a lot of editing to do!
I’m headed over to read your entry now!
I wish you enough. . .
I toss and turn
and yet I yearn,
To sleep with peace.
all those years,
still I seek.
First, I love your poem. Second, what if it is not insomnia? Once I said, “Why do You wake me up every night at 3 a.m., and He said, “It is the only time I can get your attention.” I laughed because it was true. Now I love the hours when I am awake at night. Once I quit viewing it as a “problem,” I learned that these hours are so special. I take a nap when I need to during the day and seldom feel that I am sleep deprived. Just one more way that I seldom conform to what society tells me I “should” do. I trust my body, avoid doctors and write to the Light. Thanks for sharing your nights with us. Hugs, pat
Oh, Pat! Thank you so very much! The type of cyclical insomnia I have is definitely insomnia, but as the poem says, I use the time to the fullest – as long as my physical energies hold out. After a few days, I become bed-ridden, because I frequently will go up to three days with a total of 2 hours of sleep or less, other nights during the cycle I sleep about 3 hours each night, but only in 20 and 30-minute segments, and I become a zombie, and almost incomprehensible in speech and thought. In addition, I am unable to nap during the day – except for 15 minutes once or twice at the most. These cycles can go sometimes for weeks at a time, as this one has.
That said, I always thank God for the bed I have, the supportive family around me, and the privilege of being surrounded by their love and even more so the love of God. I pray for those people who come to my mind, and some of those long nights I am at my most creative. There are indeed many ways to see the insomnia sometimes as a gift.
You are right about trusting our own bodies! The longer I live, the more aware I am of my physical and emotional needs, and I generally am more able, with God’s help, to fill those needs – in many “non-conformist” ways! My Mom always used to tell me, “Never go to a Dr. unless you already know what’s wrong with you.” That was always my motto until about 30 years ago, I ended up with what was then a mystery auto-immune disease, that came close to killing me several times. But I learned during those times to make sure my Doctors listened to me, and if they didn’t, I “fired” them!
Thanks again for your wonderful comments, and I wish you enough. . .
When I started my meds for Epilepsy (the ones I started with also treat Bipolar) I literally slept 15 hours a day, for a while I was on 11 sedatives at once. I literally was sleeping my life away and had no coherent thoughts to piece together when I was awake it might take me 30 minutes to get a glass of water. Your thoughts are amazingly coherent to have been deprived sleep, I know what the slow motion movement state is like. I also tell myself stories at night when I have my notebook at hand I write and don’t sleep, without it I fall asleep and forget. I also know the wild untamed look I always look half-mad lol
The hangover is worse than the insomnia – at least it feels that way sometimes. Depends on how long I haven’t been sleeping. . .
I also have had bouts of insomnia — it is just plain crazy!!! Nicely expressed ~~
Crazy indeed!
great poem
Thank you, Isabel!
Riveting, lovely poem
https://mrblaque78.wordpress.com/2011/05/26/essences-of-a-lonely-heart/
Thank you very much for the visit. I’m coming over to visit you!
you make the unsettled mind visual and obvious for all to see.
well delivered piece, love the word flow very much.
Cheers.
Happy Rally.
Thanks, Jingle!
It’s a good poem, Paula, very discipline structure.
Coming from such an accomplished one as you, I am very flattered! Thank you Cindy!
An insane desire to write…is this why you publish, like, a thousand posts a day? :p
What a lovely poem. It even amused the person reading over my shoulder. 🙂
It’s only occasionally, JP, that I publish multiples a day. I’ve recently discovered that those are the days I have made a pledge to cut down. From now on, I’m no longer going to publicize that plan!
I would have a really hard time sleeping with all that on my bed.
Beds are for sleeping and loving…nothing else.
Since I’ve tried sleeping in a variety of ways – from empty to sterile, what’s on my bed or not has not made a difference in my insomnia. I agree with you however – sleeping and loving are at the top – but reading and writing are nice, too, if the others are not possible!
This is an amazing post, Paula. I loved it, though I am sorry you are having problems sleeping. Lying down is a universal moment. You write of it so perceptively.
THanks, Kate! Like I said, it dawned on me that morning that I had been complaining too much about not sleeping. As much as I find that part exhausting, I’m grateful that just lying down has its benefits.
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I sometimes have troubles sleeping, very rare, but when it happens, no books or movies can help. Sometimes classical music does the trick. Nice poem Paula, I like the words you’ve used!
Thanks so much, Blaga! Your taking the time to read and comment are most appreciated!
Good poem . . . better than I could write at 4 am. 😀
I find that “clearing the decks” helps me sleep. I suspect having a bed strewn with To Do lists “in every space” would give me insomnia.
Like I said above – since I’ve slept in beds in all conditions with no affect on the amount or quality if my sleep, I don’t think the condition of the bed really contributes to the problem! Appreciate the suggestions, though!
A compelling glimpse into the inner workings of your mind, as well as insights into the value of lying down and taking over “governance” of our lives from the power we cede to time. Atypical of the majority of your poems., more poetic prose, though it ends with rhyme. Very good.
Hubs