Sleep and Wakefulness: A Meditation
- Jennifer D'Inzeo
- Nov 21, 2014
- 3 min read
The baby wouldn't go to sleep. I had him in his stroller, and was strolling him around the house in an attempt to lull him into slumber. Our house is arranged in a circle, and I felt like I was on about my one-hundred-millionth lap walking around the circle. The baby was quiet – certainly an improvement over the fussing that had come before – but sleep seemed a long ways off. The only person being lulled, apparently, was me.
Now, let’s be honest. I’m not one of those “live into the joy of this precious moment” mommies when the baby isn't sleeping and I’m wishing with every fiber of my being that he would sleep so that I could sleep. But this time, as I walked, something happened. I experienced a shift. A sort of letting go. My thoughts, usually a jumble of demanding chatter in my head, became un-cluttered, remarkably so. The cacophony of nagging to-do-lists and worries and distractions that were usually clamoring for attention in my mind were, for a
while, quite silent. I found myself in a place of peacefulness. The moment of time seemed expansive and deep, and in the calm quiet, I felt my soul reaching out to God in prayer as I walked. And not just the usual “God get this baby to sleep” prayer. Prayer about random things, prayers for myself and others, prayers of gratitude and of asking, some prayers that were nothing more than feelings, inarticulate thoughts, offered forth for God to hold. And God was there.
One could say I was lulled. However, it might be more accurate to say I was awake. Very awake. It was one of those wonderful moments of being wholly present in the moment, and at peace with it. Of course I would have liked the baby to be asleep. But that wasn't so, and in the moment I became very much OK with the one task at hand for me: to do those laps with the stroller and to pray however I could pray, trusting God in that moment. I was not writing a sermon or reading scripture or theology. I was not providing pastoral care to a parishioner, feeding the hungry, or otherwise saving the world. Nothing was being checked off the to-do list. I was just walking and praying, and that was enough for that moment. There were other times for other tasks.
In the act of letting go of the urgent sense of importance surrounding what I was NOT doing, I was able to be present to God in what I WAS doing. I was able to be calm, alert, peaceful, aware of God and communicative with God in prayer. I felt very awake in the depths of my soul, vibrant and alive. Could it be that wakefulness is actually a feeling of calm peacefulness? Could it be that all the things we associate with being awake – the to-do lists, the nagging, demanding cacophony of distractions, anxieties, and reasons to hurry all the time – could it be that these things actually dull our souls and put us to sleep spiritually? What if being awake is sometimes about stillness rather than movement, silence rather than clamor, reaching out to God in the time and place where you are rather than
eing apprehensive about where you are not? What if it’s about being prayerful in what you are doing rather than worrying about what you’re not getting done?
The Rev. Amanda K. Gott
Grace & St. Peter's Episcopal Church
