I said JUMP!
I've never been a good sleeper.
I sleep best in the city. I like some ambient light, some noise, the sodium glare my particular city gives off, and the sound of the highway.
Weird, yes.
At our cottage, on our three-acre island of Canadian shield swallowed by lake, it's awfully quiet. There are times when neighbouring cottages will throw a party and the dulcet sounds of AC/DC or some bad country band will chink in between the loons and the cicadas.
But at 3 a.m. it's so quiet you could hear the proverbial pin. And it makes you jump.
I have a vivid imagination.
I've learned a new trick to get to sleep. So far, it has been a-okay for two nights running. At least to lull me to sleep between bouts of fitful and imaginative wakefulness.
Pretend you're back in Kindergarten. Remember -- and stretch to remember -- the things you loved about it. Fingerpainting. I LOVED fingerpainting. It rocked my world. The smell, the mess, the feeling of fingertips in blue, yellow, orange, red, green paint on paper. The swirls, the swoops, the dips, the highs, the lows, the shushes of fingers, dabbed in colour, on paper.
Chocolate milk from the farm. Going to the farm! Sturdy little legs, determined hands, soft snuffly noses of cows.
Nap time.
Circle time.
My teacher's black beehive hair-do.
Not enough? Grade one.
And on. Only good things. Maybe you only remember two or three, or maybe even six, about school and that secure feeling of belonging and learning and wonder. Explore them. Embrace them. Remember smells, colours, feelings. And have a lovely night's sleep as you descend into a peaceful slumber.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh.
I sleep best in the city. I like some ambient light, some noise, the sodium glare my particular city gives off, and the sound of the highway.
Weird, yes.
At our cottage, on our three-acre island of Canadian shield swallowed by lake, it's awfully quiet. There are times when neighbouring cottages will throw a party and the dulcet sounds of AC/DC or some bad country band will chink in between the loons and the cicadas.
But at 3 a.m. it's so quiet you could hear the proverbial pin. And it makes you jump.
I have a vivid imagination.
I've learned a new trick to get to sleep. So far, it has been a-okay for two nights running. At least to lull me to sleep between bouts of fitful and imaginative wakefulness.
Pretend you're back in Kindergarten. Remember -- and stretch to remember -- the things you loved about it. Fingerpainting. I LOVED fingerpainting. It rocked my world. The smell, the mess, the feeling of fingertips in blue, yellow, orange, red, green paint on paper. The swirls, the swoops, the dips, the highs, the lows, the shushes of fingers, dabbed in colour, on paper.
Chocolate milk from the farm. Going to the farm! Sturdy little legs, determined hands, soft snuffly noses of cows.
Nap time.
Circle time.
My teacher's black beehive hair-do.
Not enough? Grade one.
And on. Only good things. Maybe you only remember two or three, or maybe even six, about school and that secure feeling of belonging and learning and wonder. Explore them. Embrace them. Remember smells, colours, feelings. And have a lovely night's sleep as you descend into a peaceful slumber.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh.