At leisure…

I’d like to know who is in charge of this whole sleep thing. I did a bit of hierarchical research and it would seem that while Morpheus is widely accepted as being the one to whom we should be complaining, he is, in fact, merely in charge of dreaming. The guy we actually want is Hypnos.

He and I need to have a word or two. I’m feeling a tad short changed on the whole sleep front.

Of course, this confused chain of command might well be at the root of the problem here. We are getting mixed messages. ‘Eight hours sleep’ is what we are told we need… yet studies suggest that while this may be an optimum amount of sleeping it should probably be done in chunks made nigh on impossible by today’s commercial and electrically lit society. A nice four hours after sundown, a couple of hours most profitably engaged in something spiritual, emotional or creative that fits with the cocktail of ingredients naturally produced by mind and body, followed by another few hours’ sleep before morning… and a nice siesta midway through the day. This apparently is the way to go.

And I could go with that quite happily. In theory at least. It is, very obviously, the way a body wants to work. It is, in fact, pretty much the way it has worked for a couple of days and the difference it made was remarkable, even if likely to be short-lived now I have returned to the clock-ridden routine of normality.

In fact, I can’t remember the last time I have done so little for a couple of days as I did this past weekend. In physical terms it was undoubtedly lazy… and I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed it being so.

It wasn’t intended that way; we’d had plans to venture out into the landscape as usual. We did go out for the evening with a friend on Thursday… and we did have meetings in the mist covered hills on Friday before the long drive to the School group meeting in the evening. We did explore a little church we had visited once before.

What we didn’t do was brave the rain over the weekend to traipse across the soggy hills in search of lost standing stones, or attempt the muddy climb to the other site we had planned to visit. It really was a very wet weekend; far better, it seemed, to be reasonable and stay indoors.

On the other hand, we talked and worked… on the books, on the next Glastonbury presentation… deconstructing the symbolism of biblical tales, seeking the hidden symbolism… outlining plans for writing… and admiring the newly delivered copy of Dark Sage, which we think looks rather well with its looming dark figure on the cover. We may also have taken time out to watch an extended version of The Hobbit… for which I even managed to stay awake! Sleeping makes such a difference to that…

But then, it makes a difference to a lot of things and even though the routine has crept back in, and there have been moments that seem specifically designed to challenge, I am still feeling the benefits of a relaxing, leisurely weekend. I may adopt the idea… just as an occasional indulgence, you understand. Mind you… pigs might fly too….

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About Sue Vincent

Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of The Silent Eye, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with Stuart France, exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at France and Vincent. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs. Follow her at scvincent.com and on Twitter @SCVincent. Find her books on Goodreads and follow her on Amazon worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email: findme@scvincent.com.
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13 Responses to At leisure…

  1. I sleep in two hour increments with a wake-up between each section. I think, when your pigs fly, I might get used to it.

    Nah. Not a chance.

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  2. Running Elk says:

    He, Hypnos, must be on holiday at the moment… :/

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  3. I know the feeling, must be something in the air. 😦

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  4. Please give Morph my regards when you speak to him. Sleep’s not the problem; it’s the bizarre dreams. 🙂

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  5. jenanita01 says:

    As I get older, too old now I think, the idea of doing nothing really appeals. What gets in the way is the guilt. I try and ignore it, and manage to for all of five minutes, then its back again, making me feel like a wayward child. This probably means there is more for me to do…

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