I fell asleep easy enough. But, I woke myself up scratching my palm and I thought to myself, "How weird is that? I wake myself up scratching my itchy palm? I wonder if I googled that that somewhere someone claims that means something, sort of like if your ears burn someone is talking about you?" That made me laugh at myself in the dark. Which then made me wake up further. So naturally, I thought, "It makes sense that I should blog about this. People will want to know this." So I make my way downstairs to fetch my computer. For the people.
Downstairs, in the dark, my foot met the brick hearth of my fireplace for the "severaleth" time in a month and I wondered why, after seven years of living here, April 2015 was when I would finally succumb to the foot/hearth meeting of the minds, were feet and hearths to have minds. I grabbed my computer off the table and looked out at the moonlight. I love the peace of the middle of the night. It's like the world and I have a secret that nobody else knows. I think about how when you're worried the night is longer than usual and full of questions that don't have an answer and you wish it would hurry up and be light so you could forget the questions a little easier. But when you're up simply because your palm itches, it feels like a comfort and you don't care if it lasts a little longer. It's like savoring the last of the chocolate before anyone else discovers there was chocolate to be savored.
I find my way back up to my bed and fall back flat for a minute into the pillows and look up at the light fixture on the ceiling. I notice the light bulbs and thought about what a marvel a light bulb even is and how we go for days and days and never think about it until one day is pops dark and we have to change it. And what kind of mind did Thomas Edison have to think of that and did he drive his mama crazy when he was a kid wondering all the time? And how if he hadn't have wondered, where would we all be now and one persons' wondering is millions of peoples' benefit. And then it occurs to me that lightbulb isn't one word and I have to go back and correct the places where I made it one.
Before I start to type, I grab a book my friend gave me on the Untold Story of the New Testament church and I open it up to read a page or two and can almost hear the sounds and feel the air around me in their world. I do that when I read a book; wrap it around me and crawl right in and lose myself in the story. Biblical times fascinate me. I wish I could have been there real time. I'm sure my head would've spun trying to make sense of what was happening around me. Just like I do now. And I think would I have believed Jesus, were I to have been there in person? Or is it almost easier not to have?
I lay the book down and think about people I know and the stories their lives are writing and how our paths weave in and out and around each other and their stories intersect with ours and we find ourselves cast in different parts in each others' plays. I think about someone saying to me recently that they don't know me well yet and how if you read my words you know me because my words are my heart and soul and I lay them out plain on the page; no tricks or slight of hand.
I start to type and the words come easy because I've got you here with me, held captive unaware as you sleep, and I chatter with you cheerfully, happily, peacefully because I know you'll pick up the conversation when you wake if you care to, if you're interested and have the time to go all the way to the end to find out why my palm itches.
I ponder getting deep here, wondering if I should have some purpose higher than writing what comes to mind; writing just because I can, just because I am awake. I decide no. I decide that it's important enough just me writing and you sleeping and then waking up and realizing I was thinking enough about you to share with you. Whether you knew it or not. Because, whether you know it or not, I often share things with you in my mind just by wondering what you would think about something or whether you're having a good day or remembering something you or I said that made us laugh. Or, the fact that somebody I've never met and never will may be reading these words and isn't that just amazing that words can travel to unknown worlds?
My palm has stopped itching, long ago now. I consider going to the kitchen to get some coconut granola and raspberries with almond milk. I've just about decided to do that when I realize....I ate the last of the coconut granola before I went to bed. A major life disappointment. Instead, I will send these words on their way and think about what you will think when you wake up and realize what I've been up to. And whether you'll shake your head and laugh. I hope so. Making friends is easy when we're both laughing. It causes our hearts to shake hands.
I'm sleepy now. Please stop talking. I need my rest. Turn off the lightbulb; yes I did that on purpose. ;)
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