What difference a couple of hours?

To sleep so deeply beneath a full moon that I awaken at 3am, certain it is 5

I make coffee and sip, before I check the time

And sigh

This is too early to begin the day and I am suddenly tired

Wide awake at 5

Half awake at 3

I don’t why such arbitrary things as clock times have any hold over me

And on the roof, the first droplets sound

It’s raining

It’s a full moon

And there’s no one around

I may as well write poetry

*Has this ever happened to you. I was having such a deep sleep. Out the door the pavers around the pool were light, the sky bright and I was convinced that rather than being awake in what amounts to the middle of the night, I had almost slept in

I made a cup of coffee, and while sipping it slowly, reached for my watch and checked the time. And was instantly tired.

Except now I’m drinking my coffee and my poet is alive and warming her pencils

Do I go back to sleep? Or at least make the attempt or call it early (and not mad) an simply get on with the day?

And how can I be convinced that I slept well one moment, and then when the clock told me a different story…be so easily convinced otherwise? It is an indication of just how much belief can affect our physiology. How can I use this super power for good today?

Perhaps I will tell myself caffeine makes me sleepy…

24 thoughts on “What difference a couple of hours?

  1. I’ve had this happen to me a time or two! I usually just end up getting on with my day and calling it an early night, mostly because tossing and turning in bed is fruitless. ❤️ At least the time isn’t waisted

  2. I agree with LaShelle. The times this has happened to me I get up and try to be do something I enjoy because tossing and turning in bed never leads to more sleep at least for me. However my best friend’s mom is 83 years young and my best friend has told me that her mom never sleeps through the night not even in her youth. She wakes up at 2 or 3AM and swears that she must have a cup of coffee and a pastry to be able to go back to sleep. How she is able to sleep after that we will never know. But it actually works for her. Instead of a cup of warm milk her night time sleep remedy is a hot cup of coffee and a pastry.

    • This reminds me of my parents. They would often get up in the middle of the night and have a cup of coffee together, I would hear them murmuring below in the kitchen, and then they would go back to bed. As an adult now I realise that they possibly had pressing worries that kept them awake – maybe not though. I’m not worried about anything, just awake in the world and thinking 💭

    • I don’t drink a lot of coffee Pooja, and only in the early morning because I like the way it sharpens everything and sort of snaps it into focus – but too much and I can feel my nervous system and adrenals imploding – it’s a drug and one I like because I tell myself it’s harmless and actually helpful. But is it? I’ve never tried to give it up, perhaps I should, just to see what happens and whether I can function perfectly well without it, after an adjustment period. Was it difficult to give up and do you miss it?

  3. So true – about the power of the mind. I avoid looking at the clock when I go to sleep, because I hold so firmly to the idea that if I believe I’m getting enough hours, then my body will be OK. Seeing the time being later than what I hoped (because I’m particularly slow in my night routines) – saddens me…but I guess it *should* be a lesson to be more disciplined about sleeping earlier.

    • Going to sleep isn’t a problem for me – I go to bed quite early – it’s staying asleep long enough to cycle through plenty of deep sleep and REM. Lately I’ve taken my Garmin off at night as it was messing with my head when it said I had poor quality sleep. There is a reason we have an autonomous nervous system – I’ll lean towards the right thing but I don’t necessarily want to know all the details.

  4. This happens to me often. It is amazing how much power our narratives have over us. Today, I take great pleasure in disrupting these narratives, and sitting in the knowing that tired is a product of physiology, not a clock, as you write. Lovely poem and post, Kate.

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