Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and have to stop and think what day it is. In that moment just before clarification, I feel like I'm floating in outer space; like my feet are not touching anything solid. I reach over and touch the pillow next to me, and there is nothing. I bring my hand to my face, and feel my lips, nose, eyes and hair. I open my eyes slowly and see the glow of light coming from my bathroom and kitchen. Slowly my feet start to touch ground; grab onto something solid. The fog starts to lift, and I realize it's Monday, and once again I've woken before my alarm. I gradually start to remember what needs to be done today, and I run it through my mind. One moment at a time. Get up, wash face, brush teeth, put moisturizer on, floss teeth, fix coffee, get dressed, fix hair, read devotions, shut windows, turn off lights, grab keys, book and sun glasses and leave for work. Day after day I do the same thing, yet that few seconds in the wee hours of the night, I can't remember my routine, my regime, my life. It's like I'm empty. Not necessarily in a bad way, but in a way that is empty without stress, without burdens, without worries, fears or doubts. Its more like peace. Maybe not perfect peace, but a contented place.
No, I don't like the "idea" that I can't remember what day it is or that I have no notion of what I am doing, but I like the lightness of the moment. Its like there was nothing weighting me down. Like in space, where you float. But once my feet hit the ground, I started adding things to my self. Clothes, shoes, thoughts, worries, what do I wear, how should I fix my hair, putting on glasses to see, and hearing aids to hear, should I bring a sweater, a book or a lunch today, how are my stats at work going to be this morning, how am I going to pay my electric bill, when my insurance on the car is due on the same date, my back is killing me, and my knee hurts like the dickens. Weights! By the time I leave for work, my feet are firmly planted, and each step I take feels like I'm walking through water with cement stuck on the bottom of my shoes.
A few things that help lighten the load and can brake off the cement on my shoes are prayer, good music, a great cup of coffee, a smile from someone, a kind compliment, finding a quarter on the ground, getting an A on a school paper, my car starting every morning, reading a good book, visiting my grandchildren, hanging out with my kids, hearing from an old friend, 4pm on a work day, coming home after a long day and that first moment of slipping my shoes off and setting my purse down, a nice bubble bath, my old soft blue robe, a cup of coconut tea with a piece of toast, working on my school work (knowing I'm 7 months from graduation day), playing LUXOR and making it past level 8 (finally), and crawling into bed and thanking the Lord for protecting me and watching over my little family. The weights have finally lifted, and my feet are off the ground again. As I drift into sleep, I once again reach that place of peacefulness; lightness; contentedness. It's as if I leave this terra firma for just a while, and have a small moment in time when I'm free from all the weights. In the wee hours of the early morning, I awaken and am not sure which place I'm in. Am I here or am I their? By the time I start to answer that question, the fog has lifted and its Tuesday.