Some days the coincidences are such that they are stranger than the strange I have come to accept as my norm. I brushed past through this very topic today during my hour with the rabbit.
For me, it is the threshold to waking from a vivid sleep that causes fear and confusion. In the way I sometimes am conscious of the fact that I am dreaming and can then navigate the terrain from a knowing distance; there is also the disorientation of transitioning to wakefulness while still dreaming.
I try memorizing poetry or songs to remedy restless nights. Maybe a few nights of trying this one on like comfy jammies or another you might prefer will help.
Wild Geese by Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
From Dream Work by Mary Oliver
published by Atlantic Monthly Press
© Mary Oliver
