As an average insomniac, it’s essential I expend energy or relax thoroughly before sleeping. Working out coupled with a gentle read seems to work best for me. It’s taken me years to figure out the recipe. A hot bath at some point is ideal.
In my parent’s home, my sister Gemini and I shared a bedroom until we were twenty-one. I would sometimes ask her to talk me to sleep. It wasn’t that she was boring, her voice was soothing. Most often, however, she’d be asleep before me.
One night, as Gemini slept, I read long into the early morning. Sufficiently relaxed, I turned out the light, shut my eyes and prayed. A few words into the Our Father I heard a noise outside the door a few feet away. I perceived the sound rather than heard it. Striking me sub-consciously, it startled me awake.
I listened. I could hear the soft measure of my sister’s breath. Searching the room, it appeared ordinary. I dismissed the whole thing. Turning over, I continued my prayer. I wouldn’t mistake it this time, it was an audible sound. Wind blowing. Yes, it was the sound of wind blowing outside my door. I sat on my elbows, cocked my left ear towards the window. Was it windy outside? Gemini’s calm inhales and exhales was all I heard through the uneven thump of my heart.
Was I going mad? Fixated, I watched the door as the noise ebbed and receded into stillness. I was tired, needed sleep. I turned the lamp on and dropped back into bed.
Beyond my door, Goliath wasted no time, grew louder, transformed into a howling, churning wind. Hastily I called to Gemini, once, twice, she wouldn’t rouse. I couldn’t believe it. Looking back to the door, I saw the knob turn. I expected it to open. Instead, the door shook violently. I screamed. Seconds passed before my mother ran into the room to calm me down. Gemini finally woke.
I explained what happened. My mother said she couldn’t sleep with all the whispering she heard, thought it was Gemini and I talking; kept telling ‘us’ to be quiet and go to sleep.
Events like these are difficult to understand, let alone believe.
I know I run the risk of isolating you, the reader, from me, myself, with my blog entries. That’s not my intention or want.
I’ve been thinking about this lately. You, the reader, honour me with your presence. You, the reader, have generally been silent most of our journey thus far. You, the reader, are a warrior alongside me, yes?
My experience with Aries is uncommon in that most of its power was held in a past-life connection. See? This is already difficult to absorb. I throw in outside, unseen forces, pushing and pulling, and this too adds strain to our logical minds. Mix in sexual and physical abuse and I’ve likely pushed you further away. Here I am now adding physical manifestation of the unseen. I’m wondering how you’re coping with all this.
I’m wondering because now that we’ve reached the bend in the road, lying here in the dark, looking at the stars…the dreaming begins. I’m wondering if I’ve isolated you with my experiences, my being, or if I’ve found a warrior in you who’ll dream with me. I’m asking, inviting you to let me know. hallelujahheartist@gmail.com (or post it).
Seriously, how are you?
Continued on Wednesday July 13th 2011
Until then, I remain yours,
Lesley
Hallelujah Heartist
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