I’m struggling to get out of bed these days. I can blame it on daylight savings time. On this particular morning I could blame it on the spring rain darkening and calming my bedroom even more. I can’t seem to bounce out of bed at my typical 5:15-5:30 a.m. when normally I wake up before my alarm goes off. I don’t feel languid or lounge-ful. It almost hurts to think about getting up. My mind and soul seem to have joined magnetic forces with body into a feeling of self-preservation.
There is a sense of child playfulness of seeing exactly how slowly and noiselessly I can slide out of bed. Can I move so stealth like my husband is not disturbed? Can I actually slide out from under all my quilts where it looks like I’m still sleeping under them? Images of soundlessly and unhurriedly moving down the hallway come to me. Can I not tiptoe, but purposely, slowly walk heel-to-toe and feel the cool hardwoods below my feet. I won’t avoid that squeaky board near the stairwell but walk so slowly over it that the squeak becomes just a sigh. I can melt through my living room in the dark without bumping into anything but the thought occurs to me to take another slow moment to light a candle. To just hover for a moment as the spark grows over the wick and the light starts to warm the surface of the candle. Could I make my cup of coffee without waking up the puppy sleeping in the kitchen? I could blend into the darkness so well that he just perks his ears up for a bit to notice, give a slight warning rumble, then lay his back down to go back to sleep. If I could continue this Harriet The Spy mode of self awareness and invisibility I would, just for a moment longer, make myself as small as possible on the couch, shrouded in a quilt, warmed by the first cup of coffee and hidden behind a book.
Most of my life I have been that “Notice Me Kid.” Jumping up and down in the old family reel to reels showing off goofy mugs and frightful cartwheels. I seem to be rapidly moving into a stage of life where my hidden introvert is taking over for the sake of self preservation. Even activities that would lead to more self preservation like exercise and nutrition have no interest to me. The energy I currently have available seems to only be able to generate a cocoon. It’s hard to form thoughts. It’s onerous to think critically and productively. It’s arduous to complete tasks. I don’t feel beat up exactly. But more like when you’ve spent a glorious full day at the beach. After a long while you realize although wonderful, you’ve had enough of the constant sea winds and warm sun battering you. You have that good feeling of just “worn-out-ness” from that constant motion of wind and water on your body.
Your mind and body and soul tell you it’s time to step into the gentleness of the shade for awhile.
The Rabid Mime 