Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Night Words

Last night I made a point of going to bed early (for me) because I have a cold and feel pretty lousy.  I lay in bed trying to sleep.  Words tumbled through my head with a repetitiveness that I knew would mean I would not get to sleep early.  I lay there listening to my thoughts hoping that the words would leave and I could sleep.

You would think after all these years of writing I would know when to just give in and get up.  The repetitiveness of them should have been a clue because I couldn't stop repeating certain phrases.  I know other writers tell me they keep a pad of paper by the bed but that doesn't work for me.  For one thing, it would disturb my husband if I were to sit up and turn on a light to write this down.

I tossed and turned for quite some time before I finally got out of bed annoyed with myself for not being able to turn my brain off.  It is funny how I can lay in the dark with my eyes closed, trying to relax and empty my mind enough to sleep but I won't sleep.

The interesting thing is I got up and wrote a long poem about a true moment and didn't think it particularly good.  I zipped it off to one of the people who reads for me, as she usually gives me objective feedback.   So did I then go to bed?  No, because for some odd reason the words excite me and rev me up.  I have to go through my shut down routine all over again.  This involves checking email and a whole odd nightly routine that I must do.  By the time I was done, it was nearly 11:30.  Not early anymore and I'm not getting extra rest like I need. 

The good thing though, now the words were out and written.  I fell into bed and almost immediately fell asleep.  Somehow getting those words on paper allowed me to settle the chaos in my head enough so I could sleep.

 This morning I get up to read an email from my friend.  I am slightly concerned it will be a commentary on how completely awful my poem was.  Yes even I have doubts about my work sometimes.  There is an email and she loved it.  It is a relief that the forceful words weren't just a jumble of twaddle and make sense to someone other than my warped mind.

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