It is my witching hour. I don’t even have to look at the clock anymore. I know what time it is. Every night, night after night. The result of a heavy mind.
Lately, words like “uncertainty” and “patience” have been part of my daily vocabulary- lots of change pending for me and for my family right now. I can’t complain, but it does bring stress and with this stress, I have become re-acquainted with HIM, my nighttime friend- the 2:15 witching hour; the time when time unravels and insecurities emerge. Fears are greatest and the silence can be deafening.
While a blissful slumber would be sooooo much better, I am making an effort to make peace with HIM. When I wake, instead of allowing the scary “what-if’s” to take root and spread like weeds, I am working toward taking this time to count each blessing, to think about the day and commit some of the little things to memory. To face those scary fears of mortality and turn them into celebrating what we have, what I have NOW.
Man, it is hard. I tell you. If you could be inside my mind when those demons are at work, trying their might to railroad me off to a place of irrational panic, you would understand when I say this is work but I am trying. And since we have been bedfellows for quite a while, I figure it’s time HE and I make peace. And guess what? It’s working!
HE and I might never be the best of bedmates but at least now I feel I am regaining ground and I am not as powerless in this relationship. Someday I hope to kick him completely out of bed and out of my life. Until then, I will practice and I will try to focus on the good and the gifts of each day until one day HE is completely irrelevant and the nighttime will be calm and the peace will be palpable.