I have a confession. I read all those writings that teach us to raise our consciousness, to awaken ourselves to the world around us.
You know the directions: Pay attention.
Become aware of your surroundings.
Know and recognize what you see.
Hear. Touch. Taste. Smell. Think. Feel.
Here’s my confession. All that awakeness? It wears me out. And I like it that way.
Some nights I lie awake, and my mind races. I know some of you are with me here. For some of us, it’s the only chance we have for us to sit and listen to what our brain is telling us.
That’s where I fight wakefulness with wakefulness. I challenge myself to pay attention to everything around me: the feel of the covers
the sound of the refrigerator clicking on
the whisper of my breath
the fatigue of my muscles
the whirr of the heater
the wind in the trees
the hum of the earth
It’s a lot of work. Bit by bit, my brain flags with the effort. The sheer exertion of grasping every moment, every sense. It chips away at me until I feel myself, slipping, slipping.
Awakening into slumber.