Just Start Without Me

Last night I went to bed at 8:30 and woke up this morning at 7:00. I’m on vacation this week, so I’m “allowed” to sleep in, but tell ME that–my higher self that always orders me to work harder and never, ever waste time.

When I finally got my sorry butt out of bed, I chastised myself for abusing the snooze option on my alarm clock. “How are you going to work solely within the dream career if you spend this vacation time sleeping?”I asked myself. Myself does not have an answer. Myself hates those rhetorical questions, anyway.

God, I love naps, though I hardly ever get them. When I have time on a Saturday or Sunday, I don’t always allow myself to crawl back into bed, but when I do–Ahhhhh! I often hear myself saying, “This feels so good, I don’t want to ever wake up.” Now, I don’t mean that in a suicidal sort of way, though temporary death has always been rather alluring, just not practical. If I could die just long enough for all the conflicts to run their course without me.

Death, however temporary, is not an option, but sleep certainly is. And it’s always while I”m in that glorious altered state, only achievable during a nap, when I seem to be able to communicate with God. I suppose it’s the only time that She has a captive audience.

“Hey, what are you doing?” She asks.

“Sleeping,” I say, “Why, what’s up?”

She doesn’t answer so; I go back to trying to remember the combination to my 7th-grade locker, in order to retrieve my class list, because I can’t remember where I’m supposed to go third period.

“Hey!” She says again, and that’s when I realize that even though I am sleeping, God is making an attempt to talk to ME. Oh my gosh! This is huge! How often does anyone really get this chance, at least while they’re alive?

“I am alive, right?” I ask. “You know I was kidding about dying, temporary or otherwise.”

God assures me that I am still alive and that She’s way ahead of me on things I kid about.

“I have so many questions, God!  I don’t know where to begin. Maybe I’ll start with this one. Why don’t you ever answer my questions?”

God answers. “I talk to you all the time, but you don’t listen.”

“What do you mean I don’t listen? Of course I listen! Maybe YOU just need to speak up!”

I wait for God to apologize, to say that She probably should speak a little louder if She expects anyone to hear Her. But She doesn’t say that, or anything. In fact, She seems to be done talking. And so, I apologize to Her.

“Did that come off a little harsh? Sorry about that….Now, if we could just get back to what we were talking about…hello?

It appears as though God has left the building.

What if God told me that naps were necessary for clearing a cluttered mind? That fatigue was often caused by an ego that is so hell-bent on controlling both the conscious and sub conscious mind that we exhaust ourselves trying to control it? What if God said, “Go punch-in at the time clock and take a nap, because you’re about to begin the real work!” (That pays time-and-a-half!)

That God would be one cool chick! I kind of think She might have tried to tell me that one day, when I was up to my eyeballs doing brain-draining work to secure a paycheck…

Perhaps when we get the extra sleep, we allow meaningful thoughts in. Thoughts that remind us how lucky we are to have our family and friends and life circumstances, even those that cause us to retreat to our asylums where we bury ourselves under the 600-thread count Egyptian sheets, goose-down comforters and memory foam pillows. What if every time I had a philosophical conversation with myself, like this one, I believed that it was all divinely driven; that it wasn’t simply ME being wishful?

What if we could get paid to stay in bed all day!

“Ok, you’re not even trying, anymore.”

I stand corrected. God has NOT left the building.