Awake

It was 3:35am, according to my clock. I was wide awake for no apparent reason. Through the seam between my black-out curtains, a slice of stark white light from the waning crescent moon cast a diagonal line across my bed. Lightness in the darkness. Beautiful.

I’ve learned not to be upset by this interruption in sleep. It doesn’t help to get frustrated. For whatever reason, I’m awake. My brain wants to show me a slide show of random thoughts, memories, unlikely scenarios and a complex list of things to remember that I forget as fast as I remembered to think of them. 

So be it. Resistance is futile. The challenge is not to get hooked into anxiety. Whatever my busy mind wants to talk to me about, I have no choice but to listen, to give in to get though. It’s October, after all.

Without question, October is the most beautiful month. Yet, it also ushers in a melancholy for me, stirring up memories, some beautiful, some heartbreaking, that in the wee morning hours swirl around like the leaves that circle around your feet in the wind before scattering off in all directions. 

All of these thoughts are up for review from the comfort of my bed, beneath the warmth of my duvet. And while I would rather be sleeping, I look at the beam of white light that shifts as I turn in my bed and think of how incredible that light is, how fortunate I am to have a comfortable bed, warm blankets, a home and the magical moon checking in on me. Lightness in the darkness. Grateful.

Thanksgiving weekend is days away. I have a complicated relationship with big holidays. It’s just how I’m wired. At 4am, it’s even more so, because now I’ve been awake long enough to know I’m not going to fall back to sleep. I could get up and put the kettle on, get started with my day, but no. Not yet. If I’m going to be awake, I challenge myself to find good things to think about on the Thanksgiving theme.

Here’s what I came up with at 4am: gravy, because it exists; those little fruit chewy snacks, same; birds, because their feathers are art; storytellers in all mediums; fuzzy socks; puppy kisses; trail walks over sidewalks; people who are kind but don’t need to remind you they are kind to gain favour, because they just are genuinely kind; hot apple cider; people who check in when you’ve checked out, but they don’t upset, because life; the Carpenter’s apple pie; Saran Wrap, which you only appreciate when you run out of it; Grover, the best character on Sesame Street. Gratitude in sleeplessness. Choosing light in the dark.

I got up, put the kettle on, and prepped the French press with coffee grains. I layered on my clothes to go outside and greet the day as first light cascaded slowly upward. Every exhale created a plume of mist. Salmon pink clouds with grey shadows spread out thinly across the morning sky. The birds crisscrossed through the yard. Lightness transformed the darkness, but the moon lingered longer. Beautiful October skies.

This Thanksgiving, whether you celebrate it or not, whether you are surrounded by family or not, whether you have all that you need or not, I hope your heart holds gratitude for the simple things your life offers you, like the moon through the seam of your curtains. 

Happy October.