I was utterly mystified by the notion of "nap time" in kindergarten. And so, perhaps, began my long journey into insomnia. I liked sitting on the cool floor in kindergarten, all cross-legged, in a circle. I also liked the rudimentary building blocks were were given to play with, toys that required no plot or instruction--just stack 'em or bang 'em together.
I find the silence of the country unsettling, too, and always strive to create some sort of white noise to distract me from the immensity of the universe stretching out from my vulnerable, little sleeping body.
Your insomnia cure reminds me of something I read from a writer/psychologist (probably a dangerous combination, I don't know). He said that our memories are not 100% reliable because we filter out some things and choose what we want to remember based on how we feel as adults. I had for years felt like I had an unhappy childhood, remembering insults and verbal abuse from my mother. But she wasn't always abusive and in many ways was a very good mother. Everywhere in my life, there were people who were good and kind and very supportive. I wasn't ridiculed at school, I didn't live in a bad neighborhood, I had great experiences. When I start thinking about the kinds of things you were talking about in this very well written post, I realize I have had an exceptionally nice life.
Oh, and finger painting was the best, right? That SMELL! And it was cold and goopy. Another favorite childhood smell: a new doll. Intoxicating.
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I find the silence of the country unsettling, too, and always strive to create some sort of white noise to distract me from the immensity of the universe stretching out from my vulnerable, little sleeping body.
Michael Murray
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Oh, and finger painting was the best, right? That SMELL! And it was cold and goopy. Another favorite childhood smell: a new doll. Intoxicating.
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I had a lovely childhood -- sometimes I wish I could crawl back in time.
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