The Night Watch

Are you up at this hour?

Me too.

I've struggled with restless sleeping off and on throughout my life.  I've also had some periods of really restful slumber. Wow, what a difference in humanity that makes! At points, I thought maybe I'm really not that sensitive or depressed or anxious; maybe I'm just exhausted, and seeing everything through sleep-encrusted lenses.

Then I had children. For the past seven years, I've been up at some point in the middle of most nights, tending to one or both of them. It's something else. Thank God for coffee and dark chocolate in the daylight hours.

But this feels different. For the past month, since really taking in all the grief and unrest, I've been even more, well, unrestful. I can't get to sleep or stay asleep. I have long awake periods. I toss and turn through the rest of the night. I wake up early, whether I want to or not.

I used to really resist nighttime waking and restlessness. I'd get all anxious about what a wreck I am when I don't get enough sleep, and feverishly pray, breathe, use mantras, count things. Of course, the crazy, anxious, desperate approach doesn't tend to work well.

But now I try to think of the wisdom, gleaned most recently from Pema Chodron, that it's usually not the thing itself that causes suffering but our resistance to it. In other words, waking up in the middle of the night can just be a thing, neither good nor bad, and if we choose to just go with it, maybe it's not all that bad.

She also encourages us to take moments like this when we may be tempted to go all self-pitying (Poor me, up in the middle of night, after weeks of this. Why me?) to instead remember or imagine all the other souls who are also up in the middle of the night struggling in one way or another. Then the sleeplessness becomes a chance to feel solidarity rather than isolation, and to cultivate compassion for myself and others who are longing for more peace and sleep.

I also think about dear Fay, down at Green Bough, saying of a restless night on retreat there: "Sounds like God's putting you on the night watch." I love thinking about joining the Beloved, the One who according to Psalm 121 neither slumbers nor sleeps, keeping watch over us all, sending out love and prayer to those I know and don't know who are going through a hard time.

I'm also aware that I went into labor with each of my boys at 3:30 in the morning. Sometimes, the dark feels like a wildly creative place, gestating and laboring to bring new ideas and projects and loves into being.

So I've been on the night shift a bit more. Reflecting on what it means to wake up and stay awake spiritually and morally (though I wouldn't mind a little more sleep!). Sensing my solidarity with the rest of our struggling human community, and wondering what keeps each of us, all of us up at night. Sending out middle-of-the-night love and prayers to some of you dear ones. And wondering what new life may be starting to contract in me to come forth.

For those of you also find yourself awake at this hour, or others like it, welcome. It is good to be here together on the night watch. Blessings on your own prayers, compassion practice and labor.

After the restlessness, may sweet and holy sleep come. God and others will keep their post while we rest.

Awake,

Kimberly