We all sleep.
I know there are a lot of things that we all do, go potty for example, but sleeping is interesting.
I was up a couple of times in the middle of the night last night. Once at a little after midnight, when Jack decided he wanted to take a moonlight stroll, and then again, at around one-thirty when my son called from Paris. He needed the tracking number for the money we wired because he lost his Visa yesterday. Yeah, that’s another post.
Before I leave that though, in case you are interested, Cotter is having a brilliant time and with the exception of this latest mishap he has been a great solo traveler.
Okay, back to sleep.
I’m wandering around our side yard, looking at the vast black sky and the stars, and then through our silent house, and it occurs to me that everyone, everyone sleeps. Different time zones, varying degrees and varying lengths, but we all eventually have to sleep.
Isn’t that interesting?
All of us closing our eyes, resting. Some of us dream, well I guess we all dream, but some of us remember. We sleep in fluffy beds, with someone, with a pet, or alone.
We kick the covers off because we are too hot, or grab an extra blanket. Sadly some of us cry ourselves to sleep or walk the floors for most of the night. Even worse, some of us sleep on the floor. Soldiers sleep, dictators sleep, circus clowns, prostitutes, nuns, murders, social workers, the lunch lady and the president.
We all sleep, shut down and are vulnerable. Pillows, tossing and turning, fan on or off, night light or pitch black. Curled up or bed hog, side, back, or my personal favorite, stomach. We sleep. This thought makes me feel something.
Connected, less alone. Human.
My thoughts from the laundry room. Sleep Tight.
I hope to see pictures from Paris.