Cousin of Death

I arrived home Friday about midnight, and my most signal accomplishment so far this weekend has been catching up on my sleep. I still wake up at weird times, and may have to go wandering, but it’s luxurious to be able to return to bed, eventually, and slurp long draughts of sleep, as if I were dipping a bowl into a fountain of it and pouring it into my mouth and dowsing my head with it. Talking post-noon arousals both Saturday and today.

I’ve been reading Memoirs of Hadrian by Marguerite Yourcenar, although my reading of it has been as fitful as my sleeping, and I’m not that far. In the first chapter, an aging Hadrian laments the elusiveness of sleep for the superannuated:

Of all the joys which are slowly abandoning me, sleep is one of the most precious, though one of the most common, too. A man who sleeps but little and poorly, propped on many a cushion, has ample time to meditate upon this particular delight. … But what interests me here is the specific mystery of sleep partaken of for itself alone, the inevitable plunge risked each night by the naked man, solitary and unarmed, into an ocean where everything changes, the colors, the densities, and even the rhythm of breathing, and were we meet the dead. What reassures us about sleep is that we do come out of it, and come out of it unchanged, since some mysterious ban keeps us from bringing back with us in their true form even the remnants of our dreams. What also reassures us is that sleep heals us of fatigue, but heals us by the most radical of means in arranging that we cease temporarily to exist.

It does seem odd how we take sleep for granted in our youth, and actually spend a lot of energy strategizing against it, only to have it abandon us at just the time when we’re best equipped to show it the most fawning hospitality.

Hope you’re all having a restful holiday.

7 Comments

  1. Viparita Karani (Legs-Up-The-Wall-Pose) is a great restorative yoga posture. You will sleep like a baby afterward and it brings a need for less sleep because your sleep will be deeper. Rest and relax your heart!

  2. This hits the spot, Phil! I’m averaging about 4 hours a night, thanks to Rosie + insomnia. Great quote.

  3. That is such a great quote. If I have four hours of uninterrupted sleep, I feel like I’ve slept through the night. Everything after that is a delicous bonus. I mostly sleep in two hour stints, with time awake inbetween, where I contemplate things much like Hadrian. Sleep is such an interesting abandonment of being.

  4. Phil:

    Babette - Yoga is something that I’ve always intended to do but never quite slow down enough to assay. Thanks for the tip.

    Dick - She’s a cutie. You’ll be sleeping even less when she reaches adolescence.

    Thanks, Robin. Remember, near the solstice, 4 hours is a night’s sleep at our latitude.

  5. beatriz:

    I can’t get its third cousin twice-removed to bestow blissful slumber; but I loved reading about it.

  6. Sleep. Oh. Sleep. Oh….! Having always struggled with insomnia (I think that’s why I find the name of your blog so winning), I now completely surrender to it, as my hormone levels give way to menopause and I find myself becoming … starking raving mad with fatigue on a daily basis. Thanks for the post. BTW, it’s 9 am here and I’m *still* sucking down coffee in an effort to swim up to full consiousness from my usual morning-groggy state.

  7. Phil:

    Roberta - my first double-espresso is administered upon awakening, and serves merely to raise a discernable pulse. I pull, or buy if I’m not at home, another double to sip through the late morning/early afternoon, sort of a caffeine drip to keep my eyes open. A third dose midafternoon is entirely possible if I see the day going into extra innings. Thanks for stopping!