I’m struggling with my sleep. It feels like I have 20 tabs open on Google that won’t close. One is playing a song in the background, another asks if I’m still there or would like to continue, and the others are frozen docs. Which means we are collectively in limbo, about to hit ctrl+alt+delete.
These quiet hours, have become a refuge. Initially I hated them, especially when I’d imagine the rest of the world snoring away. I’ve found that these are my reflective hours, my writing hours, and there has been a comfort in not tossing and turning in anger, but instead channeling that energy into thoughts and words.
During one of my musing hours, I remembered one of the things I don’t miss about the big city is how cold some houses can get. You go to bed clad like you are climbing Mount Kenya. In layers, short of wearing a balaclava.
I’m not a warm person. Aside from the hormone induced heat waves I experience from time to time, I wear my light sweaters and longer clothes while out in the evening in Mombasa, also because the choir of Mosquitoes are usually looking for a part to devour.
This season right now feels like I live in a chilly house, one of those colonial none insulated ones, with insufficient windows, or roll down shutters and some dark paint. While I assume everyone else lives in a Summery home with a little green outside. My version is cold, it’s dark and it’s dreary. The clothes feel heavy, and cover me too much to feel the sun that may peak or also the wind that may blow.
Through the, what seems like tinted windows it’s harder to see or hear the birdies sing at my window, or see the butterfly perch on the flowers outside or feel the sun rays float in.
Recently, I’ve been walking around in socks and crocs, nah, I’m not joining the slides, tracks and hoodies movement, just yet. But I’m seeking warmth and comfort. I feel like I’m losing heat.
What I’ve found that is working for me is allowing others to subtly bring the warmth in. If you know someone struggling to feel the warmth, you could try leaning in a little closer. Lingering a little longer, if they allow. Bringing rays of sunshine, finding pockets of joy. Carrying some fuzzy socks to show them you acknowledge it’s cold on the inside. Loving with action without pressure to act too differently. I guess this a dicey one. Remembering your loved one is still in there, just clad in winter wear and figuring out the Alps.
Yesterday I got a leave out, that reminded me how loved I am. Through the sense of touch I felt it again. I saw it as well, two of my friends turned sisters played with my babies because mummy is away.
At the end of the day, I read these words and they looped in my mind like an ear-worm.
During our school run, the girls each get to request one song. One of the faves is Palm of your hand by harvest. I’ve listened to it soo many times but today it is a lifeline.
My promise this day, is that Here I am in the palm of His hands and nothing can take me away. Even in the bleakness and the rock bottom that feels like it has potholes, there is love. And if I look around and allow myself to see, feel and hold it, it is there in abundance.
Have a lovely, loved and loving Sunday.
Bibi2Be 