Slow Dance Back to Sleep

^{(Title image: Photo by Preillumination SeTh on Unsplash)}

I haven’t been sleeping well lately.

It’s not that I’m actively worried about anything. In fact, I’m now in one of my least stressed periods in recent history and some things that I have been working on for years are reaching resolution. But there’s a lot moving through my mind, and although I can usually suppress those thoughts during the day, they seem to emerge at night.

Especially when I naturally rouse in the wee hours of the morning.

Especially when my husband may be quietly snoring just loud enough to lift me into a lighter stage of sleep so I break the surface into consciousness again.

And then scenarios run amuck. Not even negative ones, but just a burst of possibilities and stories.

The only “stressful” part is that it’s 3am and I am not sleeping.

I have to force myself to pull back on the cinema, deliberately and consciously pushing myself into a calmer state.

And the way I do it is this: first, I notice my breathing. At this time of the night, I often find my breath rapid and shallow, so I make an effort to slow and deepen my inhales and exhales. That helps bring my energy levels down.

I don’t even try to eliminate the stories in my head. That would be futile and require more force than I can muster in the darkness.

But what I can do is work with my imagination. Whatever scenario is playing out, I slow it down. If someone is speaking, their words slow. Movements slow down. Things are still “happening” but their pace starts dragging.

The whoosing of activity decelerates. Perhaps I imagine people sitting down. Raised voices lower and words get drawn out. The overall picture turns golden and fuzzy.

I envision this as a “sleeping kingdom” situation, where the energy drops to a lower state for everyone there. After all, this is my imagination, my world, and, I remind myself, I get to call the shots, even at 3am in the morning.

This kind of slowness becomes a blanket, covering everything. And as the “slumbery” feeling takes over, it deprives thoughts of their fangs and claws, the ones that have taken hold of me and carried me away.

Even my busy and interesting thoughts lose their electric attraction, more easily slipping out of my mind’s grasp and languidly swimming away, kind of like a roly poly manatee. No sharp turns or other quick movements. Just a gradual retreat into the corners of my mind.

This is a truce between myself and my brain: okay, you’re gonna play movies for me in the middle of the night? Fine. I’m just going to modify them a little bit.

And at 3am this slowed pace gently releases my mind as I drift back to sleep.