In the absence of sufficient sleep, the mind is mush.
I wrote that line half an hour ago. After staring out the window for a good long while.
A really long while.
Mind and body are not two distinct entities. In the absence of sufficient sleep, we experience this truth viscerally. Right now I am a fog of wispy, half-formed thoughts, a thrum of tension. A head which feels too heavy to be held upright. A heart which is weary of pumping. I’m also feeling humbled, because yesterday I was judgemental about someone who was so tired they weren’t thinking clearly and said and did things they “shouldn’t” have. Part of me wants to defend myself – at least I have the sense to keep quiet when I’m this tired – but the body/mind can’t maintain focus on a single line of reasoning, and the argument fizzles. Give it up. If there is any meaning at all to be gleaned in this moment, let it be compassion.
I wrote that line half an hour ago. After staring out the window for a good long while.
A really long while.
Mind and body are not two distinct entities. In the absence of sufficient sleep, we experience this truth viscerally. Right now I am a fog of wispy, half-formed thoughts, a thrum of tension. A head which feels too heavy to be held upright. A heart which is weary of pumping. I’m also feeling humbled, because yesterday I was judgemental about someone who was so tired they weren’t thinking clearly and said and did things they “shouldn’t” have. Part of me wants to defend myself – at least I have the sense to keep quiet when I’m this tired – but the body/mind can’t maintain focus on a single line of reasoning, and the argument fizzles. Give it up. If there is any meaning at all to be gleaned in this moment, let it be compassion.