I've been thinking a lot about a line from Robert Frost's poem, "Stopping y Woods on a Snowy Evening", the one that goes "But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep."
I think about this line every night when I wake up at 2 a.m. or 2:30 or 3 and can't go back to sleep.
I've always had trouble through the night, and I have lots of tricks for that. This is different.
Once I awaken, I lie awake for hours--a minimum of two, and sometimes three or more--thinking. More accurately, fretting.
I've tried all my usual remedies--listening to my breath; moving to another space to sleep; reading; earplugs and sleep mask; having a snack. But nothing has worked consistently. My brain roils like a pot of boiling water.
When someone asked me what I think about, I said, "Like that prayer we used to recite in church, 'we have erred and strayed from thy ways like lost sheep,
we have followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts,
we have offended against thy holy laws,
we have left undone those things which we ought to have done
and we have done those things we ought not to have done...'"
One terrible night, I think I relived every single awful thing I'd done, said or thought in high school. I thought of people I hadn't thought of in 35 years. I wondered what happened to that girl I used to sit next to on the bus, the one who ran away from home and no one ever heard from her again. I felt awful I hadn't been a better friend to her. People I let down, people who let me down, people I should have reached out to, and didn't. And on, and on.
My brain seems to be locked in a state of feverish overdrive. Keeping a pad of paper and a pen by the bed seems to help, as I can write down the damn to-do and don't-do list raging in my head.
The devices and desires of our own hearts. I've asked myself over and over lately, what IS in my heart? What is it I want? I thought if I could figure it out, I would have peace in my heart again.
But I've done a lot of reading on peripheral topics lately, and realized this may just be who I am. There's a certain automatic "happiness setting" in people which isn't too affected by outside events. Great stuff will temporarily spike your happiness setting, but it will level out again. Same with bad stuff. It will get you down (and sadly, for a heckuva lot longer) but your basic disposition will soon recover and cope.
In other words, wherever you go, there you are.
And it may also just be that time of life. In which case, is it just something to get through? I'm always suspicious of that approach to life. You may end up just "getting through" the entire thing. What a waste. Maybe I should just embrace it.
Someone suggested I mine this experience, write about it, make art about it. That seems too cerebral to me, and not how I've made my are in the past. My process tends to be much more intuitive. I usually just MAKE STUFF, and the story comes afterwards.
But maybe I should change my process?
And now I hear two new voices in my heart. My friend Tim makes fabulously beautiful and evocative pots and you can see his work here: http://muddybirdpottery.com/
Tim said yesterday, "Maybe you should just stop asking other people what to do. If I had listened to other people about what I should do, I'd still be selling encyclopedias."
And my friend Lee said, "Just make your art and quit thinking about it so much for now."
I have a new plan. Tonight, when I wake up, I am determined to get up and go to my studio. It's a long, long walk through a dark house. But there's a comfy couch there (my famous cheetah-patterned sofa) and a bunny who'd be happy to see me. And maybe being around my work will give me some peace.
Just in case, though, I'll also grab a glass of hot milk.
