I overslept this morning.
Sleep is like a temporary death–Bob Dylan (Workingman’s Blues #2)
And it sure felt like that was the case.
As usual, I had no recollection of any dreams when I finally woke up.
My big dog was at my side.
My less than big dog was in her bed at the foot of the bed.
I looked over at the clock and it was a little after 9.
I thought what day is it.
Then, coming to and arriving at increasing levels of consciousness, I was able to pick that one off. It was Saturday.
A brief thought occurred to me the next thing I would do is go to the front door and get the morning paper.
That thought quickly transitioned to the inner resources of my gray matter.
[With that thought gone, I also briefly wondered if I would have reading glasses available before I sat down. I never do that. In reality, and every time as if by clockwork, I realize I don’t have glasses on when I sit down at the kitchen table to begin to read the morning phone.]
My mind started to boil like hot water on the stove as I realized next the phone needed to be checked.
So, I looked over, tried to check it, but only squinted as I needed my glasses.
A couple of messages brought me fully to.
I needed to be at breakfast in 10 minutes.
Then it hit me.
What if I hadn’t woken up.
Was that how permanent death is?
No one has ever come back to relate exactly what the experience is.
I did feel convinced as much as ever that while anything may be possible, death may just be…it.
Poof.
That’s it.
The light’s out and you’re done.
There’s a loveliness to that thought for me.
Strange comfort, if you will.
Things can be so busy in life.
Natural evolution in one’s life would seem to dictate that you slow down as you age.
That is what still happens for some.
As for the rest, the pressure to keep moving along at faster paces than what would seem natural can pretty much overwhelm us into conformity.
We have to keep moving at blistering paces in order to not be passed by.
That may be possible in these days of having more tools than ever to maintain good health.
Good health to me includes listening to our bodies.
I think having overslept was a sign not necessarily of there being no afterlife so much as it was the body’s way of letting me know that today, no matter what I might have thought about the next day as my head hit the pillow the night before, something beyond my control occasionally has other designs on what I’ll do.
The disconnect between purpose and intention was self-evidential.
The best laid plans…
I’m not the only one who believes our choices largely determine the outcome of life.
Some of the choices are not as well thought out as they should be. One of the reasons for this is because we are busy and rush from decision to decision.
Not remembering dreams and oversleeping at least once a decade puts everything I think I know and choose to control into question.
That’s not so bad.