I never sleep in. Or oversleep. Unless I am sick, or something like that.
I wake up, on purpose, each day at 3:30 a.m. and get the whole thing rolling. I love those first few hours of the day. I start out by reflecting, meditating, praying, writing. Then I shift to work mode, and get through email requests, website work, bill-paying, and those sorts of things. Coffee is involved.
But it is a completely, wordless, silent time of solitude.
It is an important time to me.
This morning, though, I woke up at 3:58 a.m. I could not believe my eyes. I looked over at Lou, and said, “What the heck, Lou?” As he snored in my ear.
I’m blaming it on something in the atmosphere. Something large was looming. A shift in the Planets, maybe. The night before, Wednesday night, our internet went down here at the house. It was around 11:00 p.m., and a call to our provider would do no good. However, I normally post my Kid Wednesday column right before bed, so I had to switch over to my iPhone’s Hotspot.
But once I tried that, I found that KidWednesday.Com was down too. Where ever in United States — where ever that server sits — things were kaput. They weren’t getting juice either. I checked on a couple of other websites around the web. CNN wan’t loading. Or USA Today. Some of the others were okay, like Google, and Facebook. I decided it was a big glitchy mess in the upper atmosphere, unplugged it all, and read an excellent book until my eyelids could no longer withstand the heaviness of sleep.
And then I overslept. My wires got crossed up with the rest of that mess.
I’m not sure why I am telling you this, as I am sure it is of no interest to you really. Your day will clip along normally without knowing any of this. It’s just that it happened, and somehow, I feel the need let you know.
Maybe because something happened that was a normal abnormality. And it felt good to write about it. It wasn’t a big deal, but it was off kilter.
There wasn’t another mass shooting, or a devastating fire on a boat. There wasn’t the immediacy of a catastrophic storm destroying hundreds of thousands of people’s lives. There wasn’t a death of a major star from drug overdose. The President most likely did something, somewhere, but we all just turn our heads and scoff at this point.
No, it was a normal abnormality. Really, an anomaly. Things got all zig-zagged, and then they straightened out again.
Most of our lives run like that. Things go along on the normal path, and we do what we do. But every once in a while, we hit a glitch. A snag. A snare. And we do whatever it is we have to do to get past it. To straighten it out, or make it somehow ordinary again.
Then. There are those rare times, when there is no ordinary again. Something really big happens, and the everyday is snapped in two. And we stand with a frazzled wire in each hand, wondering how it ever broke. We can’t go back to where it was before.
But there we stand.
This morning, I woke up at 3:58 a.m., and I’m thankful for that tiny little mistake.
“You can break a thing, but you cannot always guide it afterward into the shape you want.”
― Holly Black, Tithe
“But nothing makes a room feel emptier than wanting someone in it.”
― Calla Quinn, All the Time
“The absence of a message sometimes is a presence of one.”
― Hasse Jerner