Ooh, I sounded pretty bad yesterday, huh? I was in a rough spot. Tired out. Also, forgot to take the pill first thing in the morning (yes, I'm back on, didn't like being thrust into peri-menopause at 36, no thank you) and boy did that make me weepy. Glad I didn't have to teach or I might have cried in class or something. I almost lost it at a talk on fracking, I just felt so despairing that scientists would ever really talk with the public in a respectful way, they would always just condescend and ignore and so why they hell am I even trying? Also I just felt profoundly lost about what to do and how to help my kid and was having trouble accessing any good love for her. How terrible. So everything got all wound up with everything else and things seemed dark.
I had a date with my friend N. to hear James Van Praagh at unchurch and even though I was worn out I knew I needed to go. Yes, he's a medium. Yes, he looks something like a gay Magnum P.I. (he is gay, and an amazing performer, and a shining soul).
He was funny as hell, and humble. Direct but kind. That said, I've never been to a medium and was really skeptical and, of course, tired, and not expecting much other than to be entertained.
But then watching him turned everything inside out and I had a memory of choosing not to be quite so busy. I had a memory of my child laying on top of me, peaceful and quiet. I had a memory of my grandparents and their love for me--inexplicable given how many grandchildren there are and how could I be beloved? But still, there it was--and next thing I knew, that little leprechaun of a psychic had put me right back in myself, all just by talking to some other people's dead folks right in front of me. I don't know what it was, but I sure felt like I had received some grace afterwards, and I can breathe this morning.
And then there's N., whose a former nurse and mother of three (now grown) and just a total light in my life. She listened to me prattle on about these struggles with Nolie and told me, in her unassuming and lovely way, about how when her youngest was four, he couldn't sleep in his room at night either. So they just put a sleeping bag at the base of their bed. The deal was, he had to go to sleep on his own in his own bed, and the ideal would be for him to stay there. But if he absolutely couldn't hack it in the middle of the night because he was afraid, he could very quietly come into their room and crawl in that sleeping bag and be in there with them. But he couldn't make a peep, and couldn't wake anyone up.
I got home at 11 with that wild-eyed feeling you get when you're exhausted, and my head was totally spinning from the realization of, the proof I had witnessed of, life beyond this particular consciousness (and please don't send me any critiques of mediumship right now, because if this is a myth or a trick, it's a lovely one, and I'd like to hold on to it for a bit). So I wasn't able to sleep very well right away, but then did fall asleep until 1am, our usual time for Nolie to wake, and she did.
I said to hell with it, and broke my rule that you never try something new in the middle of the night, and I explained the sleeping bag deal to her, and the relief that ran through her little body was just totally palpable, and I felt incredibly relieved, too, and she slept in her sleeping bag beside our bed all night, quiet as a mouse. E. woke up rested and so did Nolie. I didn't sleep that great because I was just too wound up, and sensitive to her being there and worried it wouldn't work. But everyone had a smile on their faces this morning anyway, and I cuddled her and loved on her and we chatted for a while before cartoon time, and we're going to give it a try, our new Right To Sleep Without A Peep plan. Just because it worked last night doesn't mean it will always work but I feel hopeful which is a step up from yesterday.
Today I mostly feel grateful. I was going to try to get some work done. I was going to catch up on chores and tasks. But all that's out the window now, and instead we'll just go with whatever the day brings.