small hours

I've gotten into a weird (for me) habit of going to bed late. And NOT being able to fall asleep. Usually I read and then turning off the light and taking my glasses off become achievements WAY too hard to tackle and I fall into a deep pit of slumber with the light on and my glasses in my hand. (as I tell myself, "remember not to roll over on these.")

But since the holidays we've been up staying up late and consequently getting up unreasonably and embarrassingly late for a work week. Alarm ignored. No snooze. Just "off" after it blares.

But one of the great things about lying in bed trying to fall asleep or those moments of breaking into consciously when I wake up is that I keep getting these flashes of clarity. Eyes closed. Fuzzy room. Dark and Blankets. But somewhere in my mind, I am emerging.

I know I have been a particularly absent blogger. One of the reasons is that I didn't have much to say or share. And now in those small hours I am finding, nay, COMPOSING brilliant essays and insights for my blog, for my coaching web site, for client sessions. "Ah... so clear - THAT'S what I want to say!" Wonderful to have the grey matter churning out new information!

Except. Here's the rub. I can almost never remember any of it in the light of sober, caffeinated day. It is as if these glimpses of brilliance are fleeting and wispy. I want to recreate those words, those images and I come up with the big thought bubble over my head ... and it is empty.

Yeah I know what you are thinking, and it is just so unlikely that I will wake up enough to write them down. I don't even want to try that. I just want to love the clear moments I am getting. Like when you are tuning an old radio and get a faint sound of music somewhere in the crackles as you turn the knob. I just want to notice them and enjoy them. And see what sense I can make in my waking hours.

And turn up the volume.