sleep
It’s early morning and the sun has not yet begun to glow in the eastern sky, however, in the northwestern horizon the sky is aglow with light. The city and state just north of the farm is only a mile away and in these wee hours of the morning in the absence of sunlight, factory and city lights make themselves known. Earlier, as the seemingly routine sleep disturbance knocked so profoundly on the mind of this Parkinson’s host, I lay there frustrated that the sleep that had so passionately overtaken me just a few hours before had departed so abruptly. The more I tried to take control of my thoughts and seeming obsessions the greater the frustration grew and the further from that desired place of deep sleep I traveled. As frustration grew it became obvious that sleep was not to be even a faint visitor. The harder I fought to return to that place of rest the more “unrest” I exposed. This journey along the road of PD pandering has been fraught with frustration, a few feelings of defeat and a light of hope brought forward in utterances of thankfulness for even moments of quiet peace and joy. Today is different! Today I surrender! I surrender not to defeat but rather to the reality that life has changed, my body is different than it used to be, sleep as I have known it for years may or may not return. Agility as I had taken for granted so often in the past may never even make a visit again. Suddenly, there was peace within as I began to embrace the whole notion of surrender. This surrender does not translate to defeat; it partners with what is to be victory in this life that sorts through what is important and what is not. There is more to be learned as I begin today to walk along the journey of surrender, worrying not about my enemy but rather grasping the opportunities that are afforded me by the freedom from fighting that can be exercised in the joy of living!
Unwanted, unplanned, and unwelcomed sleep disturbance has come to visit recently. Its arrival has been coincidental (as opposed to attributed to) with some odd changes in the weather. It has not been uncommon for a mid-summer’s dream weather to be overtaken by a winter’s freeze snap or for a bright sunny day to be whisked away by the cold and foreboding occupation of drizzling rain. March wind has insisted it not be forgotten and has bullied its way onto the landscape, stirring up pollen like sprinkled salt on an open wound. Whether weather or change in the clock, or some other contributor to altered sleep patterns, we hold steadfast to gratitude for another day of possibilities. Change is in the air and on the calendar and thankfulness is the plate upon which it is being served. This unwilling host to Parkinson’s finds that a generous serving of gratitude for what remains and what is to be gained provides satiation for this hungry soul. Fields of gratitude provide for the greater harvest! A different seed gives a change in harvest.
In that peaceful place of twilight sleep I heard the panting. Gracie (our Golden Retriever) was sitting next to me beside the bed as though looking to me for help. As I arose, I reached forward to cuddle her head in my hands and to rub her chin gently and lovingly. We made our way to the back door and she was off to do her thing. Her return was swift and her prancing and panting was intense. We had prepared a place near the back entrance that was cardboard and paper lined and covered by an old quilt. As Gracie so obediently laid there I could see the contractions starting. Instinctively, she began to lick at the fluid emerging from within and soon the first born male pup arrived on the scene. The sturdy pup quickly became vocal as he whined to instinctively find the source of his sustenance. By Noon, eight pups had been born. Number seven was dead on arrival. She was beautiful bundle, emerging rear first and seemingly frozen in her fetal position. I picked her up and pressed rhythmically on her chest. There was no response and she was “frozen” in her fetal pose. I laid her gently on a towel on the counter and watched to see if any movement would follow. None did. Soon, pup number eight arrived on the scene as a beautiful little female squealing to find her mother’s teat. A healthy litter of five males and two females now were engulfed around the belly of the beautiful and precious Mother Gracie. Filled with gratitude we offered prayers of thankfulness for the healthy seven and their exhausted mother. Holding either one of the precious brood ignites a spark of joy for the gift of new life.
In that twilight moment between dreams and conscious awareness of one’s surroundings a movement or sound can jolt one into a state far from sleep. Suddenly dreams have been supplanted by obsessive thoughts of things about which nothing can be done at the moment. Intent to “take control” of these obsessive thoughts renders one totally out of control as more of the impossible floods the consciousness. There seemed to be three choices that could be engaged: Continue the battle for control and flop from side to side seeking comfort between the sheets; secondly, one could seek to surrender thoughts in prayer noting no need to be in control and relax in the comfort that may come from that; or lastly, get up and change the environment all together. Having pursued the first two with vigor, this semi-weary soul chose to rise from the confines of the sheets and the accompanying obsessive thoughts and engage in minor chores as the morning dose of dopamine supplement took hold. In a place now where impossible tasks no longer weigh on consciousness, we are better positioned to give thanks for restful restoration that was accomplished and the dismantling of the weight of obsessive thoughts. As the sun now rises through the mist of earth’s emission, we rest with gratitude as we anticipate an early nap. Thankfully, control is not mine to master!
A snooze button served to be the extender of a few more minutes of sleep. Alas, the morning was calling and the day’s agenda began to unfold. Memories of a productive and warm weekend with family and friends serve as thankful fodder for a new day in a new week. Sitting in the comfort of my recliner listening to the snoring sounds of a Golden Retriever at my feet offers a temptation to join her majesty in a few morning winks. However, stamina for facing healthier days is built not by reclining, but by putting into motion the physical and mental exercises that help to restore some of the flexibility and agility lost to a progressive “affliction.” My gratitude for the opportunity to work toward renewal provides motivation to act in that direction. Even in life’s most difficult moments I find the presence of thankfulness for the evidence of grace to be a comfort that provides a peace that defies description. May you discover a grace filled day as you dwell in a place of gratitude!
It was four in the morning and the chill in the air was penetrating. A quick run to the potty followed by a stumble over the ever inquisitive retriever solidified the proposition that sleep would not be revisited soon. Snugly between the covers, one position found a pain requiring adjustment. Then, thoughts went to the passport renewal. Although the renewal is eight months away, this obsessive mind was determined to plan through the process, adding angst to the then sleepless rest seeker. As the renewal was being ordered sleep revisited to be overturned again at the alarm’s call. Arising ever so slowly, the first thoughts were of profuse thanks for seeing another day and the opportunity to discover the joys that lay ahead. As I flicked on the table lamp illuminating the still warm old stove, my heart was pumping praise and gratitude that filled the void of the day gone by. The day’s tasks are now framed gratefully in the arms of thankfulness that all is well and will be accomplished in the light of grace!
It had been a long flight from Kennedy Airport in New York. The Pan Am jumbo jet descended toward the runway in Cairo as I saw in the distance the majestic pyramids rising from the desert floor. We were delayed there for about an hour as authorities conducted a search for an unknown parcel. After nothing untoward was found, we ascended again toward the heavens to land some hours later at Bombay, India, in the wee hours of the morning. Safely through customs with bags in tow, I boarded a secure taxi for the short journey to the domestic airport for the first morning flight to Ahmadabad. Through the darkness an occasional street lamp would illuminate what appeared to be heaps of trash in plastic bags. I was trying to comprehend the disregard for proper trash removal when suddenly one of the bags moved. Then I observed more movement from other “bags” in different locations along the road. I was shaken to my core when I realized that the heaps of “trash” I had observed along the way were actually fellow human beings sleeping along the side of the road. Grief soon overtook my weary psyche and I wept almost uncontrollably at the plight of those along the road. Nothing had prepared me for the stark sight of the human condition I was witnessing. As I commented to the driver about my shocked revelation he responded “there are others not as fortunate as these folks for they have not found cover for the coming monsoon.” Suddenly, my terminally horrified thoughts made friends with the notion that there were others even less fortunate. In reflecting, I was gripped with the recollection of the parental admonition that “it could be worse”. That admonition never seemed to make sense until the plight of those along the way in Bombay came alive that day. The view of one’s condition is changed in light of the prism through which it is seen.