The morning rising without an alarm is blissful. The naturally waking up aspect is quite wonderful. It’s stress-free.
I’ve always been a motionless sleeper. My brother made a comment within the past week that, when we were younger and shared the same room, he’d look over to my lying in a coffin position. He mimicked a body holding flowers as he finished the quick anecdote for our small group, generating laughter, which also spewed from my person. It’s important to laugh at what is true.
My sleep position evolution then switched to side sleeping, but movement was still rare. Now, for some reason, I’m more comfortable on my stomach. There is no understanding why my mind and body have decided this is the best way to sleep, but it is. For now.
I could see this happening. A few times after waking up through these 31 years, I found some solace in sleeping as such. It was comfortable to just shift a little and lie flat on the mattress.
The morning is beautiful, though. The only sound: my breathing. My dreaming — this time in black-and-white — eyes opened to a pillow to my side, my left arm bent at the elbow. Blinking eyelids as wipers coerced and smeared the two-tone shading away eventually and after a moment with a cooled filter of light blue; the perspective filter seemed to smear, the mixed grey from the black and white matured and aged into a bluish cascade. Finally, bright color arrived, and looking out the window — my head, it had to tilt up a little — displayed a sunny morning.
The cold pillow and soft linen static pinched my clothing to keep me in place. But my free left hand rubbed my eyes and pinched the top of my nose. It’s time to get up at that point. However, the cat came in for a morning snuggle, nuzzled my hand, and purred with excitement and chirped for attention.
The day started with a 10-minute delay as they normally do.
The next step: weaseling my body around his without disturbing his peacefulness. He continually purrs, but he looks up at me with big eyes, asking: Where the hell do you think you’re going?
It’s usually to the kitchen, for my body. My mind changes it up.
I play with words and invisible objects.
A mind, a pen and a piece paper have the best relationship ever.
"Remember this--if you shut your mouth, you have your choice."
- F. Scott Fitzgerald