sleep

In previous posts, I've compared feline sleep experience with that of humans, but have not shared any advice of late. During training to become a psychologist, we were taught about the nature of sleep. We did gain some practical information, some of which is listed below.

We humans fall asleep more easily and sleep more soundly when:
1) we are not cold.
2) we are not in pain.
3) we are not hungry, nor thirsty.
4) we are not interrupted by sudden noises or events, permitting the full cycle of sleep with all of its stages to be completed.
5) when it is dark.
6) when we feel safe.
7) when we maintain a routine time and pre-sleep habits.


A blanket, an aspirin, a small glass of milk can make a difference.
We sleep better with a familiar comfortable pillow, on a familiar comfortable bed.
Pre-sleep habits may include something like reading, lullabies, a routine check through the house to ascertain all is well. 

It's hard to maintain sleep time and habits when we experience jet lag or changes in local time that are at odds with our body's sense of time (circadian rhythm). It is not unwise then to nap when sleepy, if possible, whatever time it is, if it lets your mind and body feel better rested. If worries are keeping you awake, imagine putting them in a drawer, or in God's hands. You can take them out of the drawer and worry if you like when you awaken.

Sleep well!

Northern California
circa 2009


The beach was strewn
with long stems
leaves and bulbs
of sea weed.
Past a great boulder,
the pocked rock surface
was colorfully alive
with starfishes
and anemone
and barnacles
at home
in the hollows
in the stone.
Away from the starfish
the beach ran on for miles
mostly sand.
The sea was brown,
and green, and blue
depending on how the sunlight
struck each rolling wave.
I walked a long way
away from friends
who were resting in the sun
amidst driftwood
and castaway logs.
Alone,
on my return,
the water welled forward and retreated
with each wave.
It welled forward,
and a large grey sea lion
ancient whiskered white
waddled ahead
across my path.
I stopped.
The sea lion knew my presence
but did not pause
and disappeared
among the dunes.

summer's end
the breeze is welcome
the last peas
dangle on the vine

conjunction

imagine a night
in a distant sky
a night still bright
after sun has set
a special night
four moons in sight
in rare togetherness -
one little orange
a big pale yellow
a mottled grey
and pallid white
four glowing 
gibbous moons
in rare togetherness

baseball game

sing to the flag
and clap
warm-up and
the game is on
start and pause
meet and greet
pitch and catch
and pitch and catch
and pitch and
wheeee
hit.

Run and pause
and circle discuss.
waves of fans
and warm-up again

windup
pitch
and drop the ball
steal away
no.
back where you were

fetch me a hot dog
get me some peanuts
oh
home run while you were gone
there's mustard on your shirt

breathe real slow
and watch the players
in white and gold
red and blue
run and pause
pitcher spit and wind-up
glance to the right
glance to the left

there's the game
and the runs
and the points
and errors

there's the slow motion
no motion
fast motion
fascination
of socks and cleats
interplay of
time
space
crowd
and players
on the bright green diamond

sage and rain

There was a kind of sage in our neighborhood in central Texas during the 1980s and 90s. The leaves of these medium-sized shrubs were very small, silvery, and fragrant, as with most sages. They were able to endure wide fluctuations in weather, from hot summers to light freezes, from dry weather to wet. I was told that these sages predicted the weather. When the little purple flowers appear, rain is close behind. I was surprised to discover this was true much of the time!

It is 2015 now, and sage shrubbery is still evident here and there. The blooms are much more abundant than in the past, and they last longer. These are very pretty silvery bushes, just a slight variation on the plants of a couple of decades past. However, it is disappointing to note: these sages do not predict the weather. Not once has rain appeared following the onset of a blooming cycle.

October, 1971

the school week was over
and several of us hastened
into the Rocky Mountains
the sun lowering
into Friday night
to go camping within
national forest.
the road hugged
walls of stone
gleaming ancient hues
maroons, golds
browns and blues
the mountains
so steep
so huge
the air was light
the cold revived us
giant trees
cupped us
within a mighty quiet
far from the city.
i never wished
to conquer a mountain
the peaceful mountains
conquered us