Sunday Scribblings: My Nights

My nights are short at this time of year. When the sun rises, I often stir and come to life. I might take myself to the bathroom, and climb the stairs again usually, to slip back in between the sheets, to turn a pillow sideways, to claim another half-hour or hour in my precious bed. Sometimes, if the morning is really fresh and bright, if there is birdsong to be heard and a silvering of dew to be seen through the kitchen window, or morning mist rising, I might turn the key in the back-door and step outside for a few moments, to breathe in some of that cool air. I might begin my day early.

And if the day has begun early, I am all the more likely to allow my night to begin earlier than normal at the other end of the day. Since I find myself watching less and less television during the past few weeks, I am less often watching a program that will run on until 11.30 or midnight, so I might begin to move towards bed any time after 10.30. There's a routine, or the elements of a routine, which can be performed in different orders. There are nights I'm ironing something to wear the next day. There are nights I know I'll need to have my files prepared and packed for the next morning's work. There are nights where neither of those tasks need to be performed, and I just have to move through the rooms locking up and switching off, then spend a few minutes at the teeth-brushing, etc, before I go upstairs to my attic room and settle in for the night. I read a little scripture, write my gratitudes, and snuggle down into my bed with a "Thank you" to God for the day just passed.

I count myself as very lucky in that I seldom have difficulty getting to sleep. There have been a few times in my life when insomnia has reared its head, but I dealt with it without battling, rather with acceptance. I was lucky in that it was during times when I didn't have work commitments during the day, and I knew I could make up for lost sleep by resting next day. I passed those nights drinking cocoa, with a notebook on my lap, watching for dawn. It's a strange feeling, sitting awake when everyone else in the world seems to be sleeping. Those were probably some of the loneliest times in my life - those nights.

I sometimes have weekend nights where I stay up really late. - Watch a late, late movie or skip from blog to blog into the small hours. This isn't the same as insomnia. I think I do that because there are times where I just really like the feeling of being exhausted going to bed. It's a throw-back from teenage years, when my rebellion was to stay up later than I should. I'm a natural night-owl, although the routine of my days has caused me to modify that nature now. Maybe it's the time of my life that makes it harder for me to sleep on in the morning.

My nights these days are peaceful; my bed comfortable. My dreams are pleasant and interesting (to me!).

I've written so much about night, peace and sleep, I'm getting tired. Think it's time for bed!
'Night!!!
----------------------------------
Go on over to Sunday Scribblings to see who else has written about their nights.


I wrote in February for a Sunday Scribbling prompt on Sleep: Before I sleep I suppose it is a companion-piece to this, too.