Despite best efforts, there's always the sleepless night. Am I right? I mean, this is true no matter who we are--from the stablest, least anxious person on the planet (I want to meet that rockstar) to the most solvent, not-a-care-in-the-world tycoon with three yachts, a fleet of private jets, and a unicorn (I want to meet them, too; maybe they'd adopt me).
So, yes. It happens. Just, for some of us, it happens more often than not. What can you do? For reals, that's a serious question. Last night was, I think, the result of the jittery wind-down, the download after some major cosmic (or otherwise) upgrade. (FYI: I have no idea what I'm talking about). I tried all my tools--books, meditation, tea, herbs, essential oils. Finally? I just decided to give into it.
It occurred to me that maybe the reason I couldn't sleep was that I wasn't *supposed* to sleep. I was *supposed* to pay attention to something. A message. A giant cosmic flag waving right over my head, a cosmic flare, if you will. So I did. I put my book down, lay on my back, and said to the powers that be: Lay it on me. Whatever it is. I'm here to listen.
And then, wouldn't you know, I fell asleep. For the love of Pete, I tell you. But maybe that was it. That was the lesson: acceptance. Facing the junk instead of throwing a (well-intentioned, finely-crafted, all-organic) blanket over it.
So, I offer this to us as an experiment. For next time (because, goddess knows, there will be a next time). Maybe we all just need to watch the flares, the fireworks. Maybe after that, we'll all sleep.