We play a game in our house called “What’s Your Favourite”? We ask each other, “What’s your favourite color or animal or whatever?” Once my son asked me, “Mommy, what’s your favourite thing to do?” “Sleep”, I said.
I enjoy it immensely. It’s a treat to crawl under the covers, delicious! I recall being told to take a nap as a kid and then wandering around my room for an hour. I look back on that and it confounds me. If someone told me to take a nap now, I’d say, “Why, Yes, thank you. I’d love to. What a splendid idea!” I’m particularly good at it. Sort of a hobby, you might say. I can lie down and be otherworldly in a breath.
For example, I visited Cameroon, Africa, as a college student. We, the missionary and my singing team, were travelling in dense fog at night on a notorious stretch of road called Rum Hill. The road clung to cliffs, was carpeted with boulders, and was more the width of a lane and a half than two. It had taken the lives of many Cameroonians. One of our guys had to hang out of the vehicle using his flashlight to follow the edge of the cliff so our driver didn’t make a wrong turn and kill us all. I was sitting in the back of the land rover, where there were some benches. I decided, if I was going to die, I’d rather do it in my sleep. I arrived back at the guesthouse surprisingly refreshed.
Another time, my husband was startled awake, when he smacked his head on what felt like a brick wall. It turns out, he had smacked his head on mine and I didn’t wake up, probably because I was unconscious.
Like everyone, I sleep in a specific way and require a few things to accumulate maximum Z’s, though I can sleep under almost any conditions:
- I sleep on my back, like a corpse, with my hands folded across my chest (just practicing, I guess).
- My mouth hangs open. I don’t know how to stop this, short of tying a scarf underneath my chin and I’m not the Jackie O type. I drool, too. I wake up drowning, do a flip turn that would make an Olympic swimmer jealous, and get right back at ‘er.
- I have to have at least one foot out. When I was a child, I kept a foot out that I might arrive at the TV at exactly 6 am for Saturday morning cartoons. As an adult, I keep a foot out, because I’d like to be free to thrash if the urge presents itself. As I stated earlier in a post about my, ahem, love of spiders, the whole cocoon thing creeps me out.
- I need a skinny pillow. I’m perplexed by pillow manufacturers. A queen-sized pillow looks like a hay bale to me. Even my huge, muppet head won’t put a dent in one of those stale marshmallows. Who in this world likes to sleep for 8 hours with her head at a 90-degree angle to her spine? Do queen-sized pillows have a purpose? Hmm. They are more absorbent than standard pillows (see bullet point 2). They might be good for people with hemorrhoids.
It seems I never get enough sleep and, if I had the freedom, I’d like to figure out what “enough sleep” means for me. Like too much of anything, I may eventually tire of sleep, but at 7 am, I think I could stay in bed forever. Sleep is magical! It can take away a headache and quash a bad mood. It can give you a new perspective and energy to face the day. It’s a warm, gentle hug and we all need more of those. Sleep grows us, heals us, and revives us. I’m smitten with it. I recommend it to everyone. What was that? What if you have trouble sleeping? Oh. Try smacking your head against a brick wall. 😀
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