Tag Archives: Sleep

A Strange Dream

A few nights ago I had a very simple dream. This in itself is odd because my dreams are never simple. I’m usually embarking on one epic quest or another and they don’t usually make too much sense. In the dream I was in a seemingly endless, empty white room with no one else in it except me and a man wearing a somewhat strange outfit. The only thing I remember distinctly is a white fur coat. I was looking for Jesus and since there was no one else there, I assumed this was him. As soon as I started talking to him, however, two things happened.

Firstly, I quickly realized that this wasn’t who I was looking for, and secondly, a man who was a mirror image of the first man showed up out of nowhere. Since this was a dream I didn’t think this odd at all, so I went over to the second man assuming that, once again, this must be Jesus. Interestingly, though he looked exactly like the first man, he had a completely different personality. Once again, however, as soon as I began talking to him, I realized that this, too was not Jesus. The process repeated over and over, every time producing more and more men who looked exactly alike but had completely different personalities.

Then I stopped. Finally I knew this wasn’t working. By now there were countless men I hadn’t even spoken to yet, all who looked alike, and who, I could guess, all had different personalities, but were not Jesus. So I tried a new strategy. If I spoke to no one, they did not speak to me, so I simply wandered around and looked. They all looked the same. Eventually a theory popped into my head: maybe these are all different versions or parts of who Jesus is or even how people perceive him, and I have to find the one I’m looking for.

Shortly after that, however, I realized this was an absurd thought and there is only one Jesus. Only one. As soon as I realized this, I saw a man who looked like the others in that he had the same facial features and hair, but I distinctly remember him wearing much less elegant clothes. What was also distinctly different was that, unlike the others who were standing, he was sitting on a rock, his feet were in a pool of water, and he looked very weak, like he was about to fall over. This scared me. I wanted him to be okay. I knew this was Jesus, and once I was sure of it, he got up unsteadily, came over to me and gave me a hug. He said a few words, but I don’t remember what he said. I woke up after that.

I don’t think he actually said much, and I’m not really sure how important it was in the end. If he had wanted me to remember it, I would have. It’s easy to forget things between dreaming and waking up. I think what was important was the entirety of the dream itself. I learned a lot of things that I already knew in part, but that hadn’t entirely solidified in my mind.

In Mathew 24, Jesus warns of “false prophets:” people who preach things that sound like truth but really turn people away from the Truth. He warns of wars, famine, and natural disasters, and he warns that people will hate his followers because of what they (we) believe. He says that his followers need to be careful and not be fooled. There were a lot of people in my dream who looked like him, but who weren’t him, and it took me quite a while to figure that out.

What was interesting, however, was the real difference in appearances. The other men in my dream may have looked like him to some degree, but as soon as I talked to them, I knew I was talking to the wrong people. Not only that, but they looked strong, well dressed, and dignified, while Jesus did not. Jesus doesn’t present himself as above anyone. We find him in simple things and small acts of kindness. He humbles himself despite the fact that he is the Son of God. He is a part of the Holy Trinity. That’s kind of insane.

What hit me most of all was the very end of the dream. When I found him, he looked exhausted, like he was going to faint, and I felt responsible, as if it wouldn’t have been so bad if I had found him sooner. I was so surprised to find him like this that I hesitated, and I felt bad about that, too, but before I could even move to help him, he was getting up. When he hugged me it was the most relieving feeling I’ve had in a very long time, and it was in a dream.

I just wanted to write this all down and share it with whoever finds it interesting or helpful. I would love to hear what anyone has to say. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.

 

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Day 3

I’ve had an interesting day so far. It technically started before the sun came up. I couldn’t sleep last night, so I lay in bed and made up a weird story for an hour and a half or so. It wasn’t bad for bored-at-two-in-the-morning. I remember a lot of it, but I don’t think I’ll bother writing it down. I think it’ll be my secret insomnia story.

I got up around 10:15 because I was supposed to come up with the lesson plan for today’s CCD class yesterday, which doesn’t take long, but I forgot, so I needed to have time to do that plus eat lunch. That all got done and the lesson itself went swimmingly, although I think I occasionally get a little too complicated for my nine-year-old students. When I was a kid I hated CCD. It wasn’t taught well. I just want them to know Jesus. I definitely didn’t know him when I was a kid.

After my lesson I came home and assessed my mosaic. My dad and I got a lot done last night, and I realized I just need to glue one more design piece down before starting on the background, which is going to be all black tiles. It was cool to realize that I now know how to complete the puzzle. We ended up talking a bit about mosaics in class today because, surprisingly, most of the kids didn’t know what they were. One of the kids asked me what mine looks like. I told him it currently looks like a mess.

I didn’t have a whole lot of time to do mosaic things, though, because I had to get upstairs before Kathy came over. She was super nice and cool and kind of reminded me of our family friend who lives in Florida. What she told me was so reassuring. I, Katie Curtis, can become a consecrated virgin. I still have a lot of thinking to do, but I’m pretty sure this is exactly what I want, and there’s nothing getting in my way that I can see. She said the next thing I should do is read a document on this vocation that’s provided online and meet with the director of vocations in Boston.

The most helpful thing she said, though was that, while I’m working through all of this, I can say that I’m dating Jesus. It sounds weird, but I’ve been wanting to be able to say that for a long time. I’ve loved him for a long time in a way that has felt more than friendship, and I haven’t known what to call it. It was just this weird in-between thing. I think I’m right. Everything is telling me that I’m right. It’s kind of ridiculous. Right now I’m listening to very weird music that I’m not sure I even really like, and I haven’t got anything done on my Mythology today, but I don’t even care. I’m in a stupidly good mood.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

How Far

When I graduated college I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m not sure anyone ever entirely figures that out. Even when one has a normal, well-paying, steady job, has a fabulous relationship, or is happily single, has a nice place to live, has good friends, etc, it’s hard to know if one is ever really satisfied or has figured it out. I think we spend our whole lives “figuring it out,” and I’m not sure that goal is often accomplished in this life. This is all probably pretty cliche by now, but it matters. I think it’s important to be okay with admitting that you don’t know what you’re doing or where you’re going or why. I’ve been getting more comfortable about answering hard questions with “I don’t know.” There are a million questions that I don’t know the answer to, and that’s okay.

I do think it’s important to keep asking questions and to keep learning. On Thursday I went to confession and admitted to something I’ve been avoiding for a long time, and once I did, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of me. Of course, later I accidentally did it again. However, I think I figured out how to solve the problem. Something I’ve been thinking about for months now is how an infinite, perfect God, who loves everyone, and made everything not only pays attention to, but loves me no matter what. It’s actually the “no matter what” part that baffles me most. The ironic thing is that the more I get to know Jesus, the more I see my own imperfections. I keep trying to answer questions about why he created me and why he loves me, when he just does. I keep asking these questions that I can’t answer because I’m broken and he’s not.

Yesterday I came up with a new question. Why am I broken? Obviously I can jump to original sin, and all that noise, but really my question is, why did humans turn against God in the first place? The cliche answer, of course, is “because we have free will, and maybe we wanted to see what would happen,” or something along those lines. I don’t think people ever entirely grow out of the curious, rebellious child phase. I still have it in me, anyway. I don’t think there is a good explanation. While I don’t like it, I guess it’s a good thing that I’m seeing my mess more, and I do want to clean it up. Before receiving communion in the Catholic Church (and it’s probably the same in other churches), we say, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” I think it’s helpful to think of my soul as a messy house. He sees the mess and likes me anyway. He doesn’t approve of the mess, and that’s why I’m going to clean it up.

Jesus taught me what love is. I don’t mean that I understand it because of his actions or his teachings, at least not entirely. What I really mean is that he loved me until I loved him back. He loves me completely so I can love him more. Trust me, if it sounds weird to you, it sounds weird to me, too. It understandably sounds insane. For awhile I was using the word “unbelievable,” but that’s not entirely accurate. I’ve switched to “amazing,” which doesn’t really do the feeling justice. It’s amazing and awe-inspiring and baffling and crazy and exciting and a lot of other things that I don’t really have words for. The God of the universe, who was also a regular human being two thousand years ago, and is actually more human than I am, loves me, and I love him.

A lot of things about God “just are.” He wants us to love him because he loves us and he loves us because that’s just what he does. That’s who he is. He has infinite power and can do literally impossible things, but the very core of his being is love, and what’s crazy is that it makes him relatable and in some sense, vulnerable because we can say “no” to that love. He made us knowing that, not only was it a possibility, but that it was going to happen.

Last night I woke up crazy late (or early) and couldn’t sleep for a while, so I decided to read. The Bible site I use was open on my phone, so I went to the chapter I hadn’t read yet this time around, which included the story of the Prodigal Son. Last week, really by accident, I watched a video about this story. Apparently the people Jesus was teaching were familiar with another story that is similar to this one, only at the end of it, the kid’s father gives him exactly what he asks for and no longer considers him his son. I decided to try and find that story, so I googled “prodigal son,” and I didn’t find the story I was looking for, but I did find an analysis of Jesus’ story, which emphasized the role of the older brother.

Apparently, according to Jewish law, the older brother would have got two thirds of his father’s estate when he split it up–not half. Also, while the brothers owned the money and the stuff, they didn’t have control over it, exactly. The younger brother could sell his third, but for one thing, he would have sold it at a loss, and for another, it would have to stay with his father until his father’s death. Furthermore, by asking his dad to split up his belongings in the first place, the younger brother is basically saying that he wants him to hurry up and die. The older brother says nothing. He just takes his two thirds instead of trying to make peace between his dad and his brother. At the end of the story, he’s ticked that his brother is back and safe, but when his dad says “Everything I own is yours,” he means it quite literally.

I think it’s possible to see ourselves in both brothers. Even last night I felt stupid for doing the exact same thing I had confessed to only hours before on Thursday. Sometimes when that kind of thing happens I get a little crazy, so last night after reading that analysis I was praying and I just kept thinking, “Please forgive me.” And then I remembered. It’s no matter what. In the story, God is represented by the forgiving father. He willingly does what his son asks, and immediately forgives him. There’s no mention of anger. I realized last night that sometimes life would be easier if I knew for sure that God was mad at me, but really this is because it’s easy to get mad at someone if they’re mad at you first, so I dropped that thought. Confession is kind of a tool. When I go, it’s not always because I want to. It’s because “sorry” doesn’t really cut it. It’s because explaining what I’ve done wrong isn’t easy, but it’s liberating.

Before returning to heaven, Jesus tells his disciples, “what sins you forgive are forgiven.” He allows people to forgive sins for him. God already knows what we’re going to do, let alone what we’ve done. I think that’s a large part of the reason it’s important to confess to a priest. It’s for us. It seriously cuts through a person’s ego sometimes. It took me quite a while to admit what I needed to, but the first time is the hardest. I think God allowed me to make the same mistake again (key word being “allowed”) so that I’d have to admit it again today. He knows that really irritates me. God doesn’t make anyone do anything. He only asks us to do things, and if we say “yes,” then he’ll work with us to see how far that “yes” will go.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

I Put It Behind Me

Every night my dad and I have the same routine. He comes home, we eat dinner together with my mom and brother and birdie-brother, watch the news until I can’t stand politics any more, and then we go downstairs to race and watch a movie or two before bed. My dad and I watch a lot of movies.

Every night we play Crash Team Racing, which came out some time in the 1990’s on the Play Station 1. We always play a best-of-five tournament, and we always use the same five tracks. We also always turn the game sound off and listen to music while we play. Last night my dad put on an artist that I didn’t recognize. I didn’t pay all that much attention to it, partially because I didn’t particularly love it.

I couldn’t sleep again last night, so like usual, I read. I was reading through 1 Corinthians, and at one point, Paul emphasizes over and over that God raised Jesus from the dead and he will do the same for us. Obviously it’s important to believe that. In my last post I talked about how I realized the fullness of what that means. He’s alive today. He’s with us in everything we do. I was reading this stuff at around 4:00 this morning, and I was awake, but sleepy. At some point I read (paraphrased) “he will raise us from the dead,” and though it wasn’t even an entirely formulated thought, I had a moment of doubt. What if he doesn’t?

It only lasted for a second, or maybe even half a second, and I immediately felt bad. I was annoyed with myself for thinking it and I decided right away that I would go to confession on Thursday. I can honestly say that my faith has been really solid and I haven’t had even a speck of doubt for a long time, so of course, my initial instinct was to sulk. Then I realized that a better response would simply be to put it behind me.

I do believe that Jesus is alive. I do believe that God raised him from the dead. I do believe that there’s a life after this one. Most importantly, I believe that my sins have been forgiven. It was an accident. Sulking about it would not be productive. More to the point, sulking makes me focus on me and how I failed and now that makes me feel. It makes me ignore God at a time when I need him most, and it makes me feel alone. So instead I prayed. I just said over and over, “I believe in you. I trust you. I’m putting this behind me. We’re good.” I made a point just to talk to God before I fell asleep, and it took me a while, but I felt a lot better.

While all this was going on I had a line from a song stuck in my head, and I realized it was from the artist we were listening to while I was playing with my dad. The line was “If I ever lost my faith in you/ there’d be nothing left for me to lose.” I don’t know any of the other lyrics, and I’m pretty sure it was about a girl or something, but that’s not the point. God was using those two lines to help me out because it’s absolutely true. Nothing else would matter. I’d be adrift with no destination. It’s not a matter of where I would end up, but who I would be with, and I’d be alone. I need Jesus more now than when I first met him.

Maybe that sounds counter intuitive. I think as you become more interested and involved in spiritual matters you realize just how big the universe is, and just how small you are. It’s so important to trust God. He loves everyone perfectly, and he desperately wants us to love him back. We can’t do that unless we trust him. I’ve come to realize that trust, even by itself, is almost even more important than direct love when it comes to relationships with anyone. If you don’t trust someone completely, you can’t love them.

I’m slowly but surely moving towards the next milestone, whatever that may be. I’m putting that moment of doubt behind me because Jesus put it behind me. It doesn’t matter because that moment of doubt isn’t who I am. I don’t belong to that doubt. I don’t live in that doubt. Jesus is alive, and I’m alive; I have faith because of him.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Time And Truth

Sometimes I go to bed at night feeling like I failed. I didn’t accomplish what I wanted to, or I didn’t do anything or I didn’t do enough that was productive or helpful to others. Sometimes I feel like I’ve wasted a day. It is a luxury I can afford, but it isn’t one that I feel I deserve. It certainly isn’t something I’ve merited. I have no right or reason to waste time. Time is a person’s most valuable resource. We are only given a set amount of time to begin with, and all we can do is lose it. We can never get it back like we can money or possessions or even love.

That is not to say that we can’t or even shouldn’t spend time doing pointless things. Time is a free gift. So is place and circumstance. To some degree, I believe it would be ungrateful not to take advantage of the luxuries we are given or can afford. I am grateful that I can afford to waste a day if I want to from time to time. I am grateful that I can sleep in a comfortable bed and not have to worry that something bad will happen while I’m asleep. I am grateful that I live within driving distance of an excellent school and within walking distance of my weird, ugly church that has become a home. I am grateful that I can afford modern technology to research and work and write.

I am grateful that, even though I am currently unemployed and really don’t have that much money to my name, I can afford to give a little to fellow musicians when they feature at open mic nights. I am grateful that I have time to give to my church and to blog and write, learn and play music.

Sometimes I wake up in the morning (or afternoon) and smile and think to myself: “Lord, thank you for this day. Thank you that the sun has come up and that we have another day to become better humans and to love more and do more and be more.” Each day is a miracle. Each day is a gift. So many things we take for granted are truly miraculous. The universe could have been completely random and chaotic and arbitrary, but it’s not. It is ordered and good, and to some degree, predictable. It is a miracle that the earth is just close enough, and just far enough from the sun to allow for life. It is a miracle that there is water and edible things. It is a miracle that people can speak and think and use language. It is a miracle that, through the use of language and science, we can begin to understand our Creator.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Three Dreams

Last night I had a few very weird dreams.

The first was that the world was ending and no one knew how to save it except for one really annoying guy who no one wanted to talk to. That dream didn’t really go anywhere, except that I eventually ended up talking to him because I didn’t want the world to end. The problem was that I couldn’t understand what he was saying for some reason, so I just sort of had to follow him and do what I thought he was trying to tell me.

Then I had two similar dreams.

My second dream was that everyone had a number over their head and depending on what they were doing, or how healthy they were, the number went up or down. I was at Canobe Lake Park with my cousins, and a girl somehow got hurt on the Corkscrew. Her number went down to zero, but she refused to die.

My third dream was that there was some kind of disaster in a big storage building. A few workers got trapped in there and there was a fire. One guy got half his body burned, but he was completely calm and peaceful while he waited for help that eventually did come.

I try not to read too much meaning into dreams unless I’m absolutely sure I’m supposed to. I’m not sure about these ones. For some reason I have a lot of dreams about disasters or the end of the world. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s because I watch too many movies. Anyway, I don’t think these are too important. I just want to remember them I guess, so I figured I’d write them down.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

The Things My Subconscious Does

I had a very odd dream two nights ago, and I thought I should write it down before I forget. I was riding down a dirt road in my wheelchair (which is weird because I almost never actually use a wheelchair in dreams), trying to get to my family, but the road was muddy, and my wheels kept getting stuck. For some reason there were all kinds of trucks and cars stopped at odd angles, some of them clearly very stuck, all over the road, which made it even harder to get through.

Eventually I got so stuck that I just couldn’t move no matter how hard I tried, but luckily, a woman who I’ve clearly never seen before in real life came and rescued me and brought me to this weird store, where she proceeded to tell me about how teeth work. Then she started putting teeth into a plastic bag to give to me, and told me to take good care of them like I was supposed to put them in my own mouth or something. However, right before I woke up, I saw two pictures on the wall behind her.

The first was a picture of Jesus carrying a cross. The second was of Jesus carrying a very large shovel, standing over what appeared to be a grave; possibly his own. I don’t know what to make of it, and it’s kind of freaking me out a little bit. What’s with the shovel? What does it mean? Why am I seeing this? Was I supposed to have this dream, or is my brain just being a psycho? Usually I know for sure, but this dream was super weird. I don’t understand what stuck-in-mud and bag-of-teeth have to do with anything.

I do know that when you dream about teeth it’s usually because you’re stressed out about something. I guess I have been a little stressed out about school lately, but no more than usual, I don’t think, and I never have teeth dreams. The other somewhat odd thing is that I haven’t been remembering as many dreams as usual lately. Even just a year ago I had a crazy dream every night and I remembered it. Lately I’ve been having a much harder time remembering my dreams, which is annoying to me because I like my insane little adventures. I feel like I might have been supposed to remember this one in particular, but I don’t know why. I guess I could do a little research and try to figure it out.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

The Magnificent Court Of Dreams And Sleep

I don’t use an alarm clock. I need help getting out of bed and into my wheelchair, so my parents are essentially my alarm clock. This is the reason I invented the Magnificent Court of Dreams and Sleep. There are many members of this court, and I shall name them for the entertainment of my readers.

Firstly, there are the Guardians of the Chamber. These are two tall, slender figures, clad in sleek, gold armor. They each are armed with long, slender swords. There is also a guardian known as the Sleep Watcher who is armed with a bow who stands slightly farther down the hall from my bedroom. These guardians are meant to keep the enemy of sleep (parents) from entering the room.

Secondly, there is an old man stationed right outside my closet. He is fairly unremarkable, except for a small, clock which hangs around his neck on a golden chain. This is the Time Keeper. His duty is to stop time when necessary so I can sleep as long as I want.

Thirdly, there are two small, winged spirits stationed over my bed. They are twins known as the Day Weaver and Night Weaver. These two young spirits are responsible for giving me daydreams and night dreams.

Lastly, there is the Commander of the Army of Sleep. Her purpose is to drive out the insane thoughts I have late at night when I can’t sleep. Her army is comprised of strange little spirits capable of entering my mind and fighting insomnia.

I came up with this whole idea basically by accident. I don’t know how long I had been envisioning some of these characters before I actually realized it. Admittedly, a few of them were not spontaneous, but the guards outside my room have been around for years; probably since high school. I really like to sleep.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

The Things We Hear And See In Dreams

In the past 3 years or so I have had 3 very important dreams.

The first was in my Freshman year of college. That year I had joined a small group (which has since disbanded), to pray and study the Bible together. One night we read a passage where Jesus says “Don’t be afraid. Follow me.” That very same night after I went to bed I had a dream where I was in the dark and I couldn’t see anything. I wasn’t afraid, but I was lost, and I was trying to find my way out– wherever “out” was. At one point, even though it was pitched black, I saw a faint silhouette appear in front of me. In a man’s voice, the silhouette said, “Don’t be afraid. Follow me, and I’ll lead you out.” I followed him, and eventually we saw a light in the distance. The man then said something along the lines of, “Follow me, and be a bridge for other people to come.”

The second dream happened right around the time my grandfather passed away in November. I’ve already mentioned this in an earlier post, but I’ll go into some more detail here. I should preface this by mentioning that I dream about the same weird city a lot, and something is always going wrong there. I’m always in some sort of peril. Well, this time I was in a suburb of that city. At first I was just playing some sort of game where I had to run around and find things, but then I began to feel feverish and I knew that I was actually looking for something very important, and if I didn’t find it, something very bad would happen. Well, I was running out of time, so I decided to run into the all-night subway station. When I reached the bottom of the stairs that led to the platform, I fell down. A moment later there was a man standing over me. He was young, and very well dressed; in fact, he looked like anyone you might encounter on the street, but I was absolutely terrified of him. He picked me up, and I tried to escape at first, but then realized it was pointless, so I walked along with him up some stairs and into a strange, dingy hallway. Up ahead we saw an open door and heard what sounded like a fight. When we reached the door, we saw that two young men were beating up a girl who looked to be about my age. The young man who was escorting me asked, “Would you like me to spare her life?” I said “Yes, of course.” The young man took a step forward, and suddenly the other two men were gone. He told the other girl to head back to the train station where she would find help. Then I realized something. I looked at my escort right in the face and said, “You’re Death, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he said.
“And you’re not awful.”
“No, I’m glad you don’t think so.”
“And you’re taking me away.”
“Yes, dear.”
“But… you’re bringing me to God, right?”
“Yes.”
That was when I woke up.

The third dream I had was just a week or two ago. Over winter break I read a book called 90 Minutes in Heaven, which was about a pastor who was in a terrible car accident, and actually died for 90 minutes. The EMT’s said that his heart had stopped. While he was out like that, he saw a piece of heaven and heard wonderful music. Miraculously, another pastor came upon the scene of the crash, climbed into the back of the wrecked car and began praying for him and somehow, his heart started beating again. After I read this book I was jealous. I’ll admit it. I wanted to see a piece of Heaven too. I prayed to God and said, “God, I’d really like to see or at least hear something like that, but if this story is going to be all I get for now, please just help me let that be enough.” A while after that (last week, maybe), I had a dream. Once again I was in complete darkness, except this time I was laying down. I couldn’t see anything, but I could hear the most beautiful music ever, and somehow I knew that I was hearing angels. Then the music changed to earthly worship songs, then it changed again to secular love songs, and as this was happening, it began to get lighter, and then I woke up.

I have vivid dreams just about every night. I don’t always remember what happens in them, but I know I have them. Most of them are just insane and don’t make any sense, but sometimes I get these little gifts while I’m asleep and they make me feel awesome for days, if not years on end. I’ve recently decided that everything is awesome; freaking awesome! Yes, bad things happen, but 1) God doesn’t make bad things happen, and 2) it could always be worse. Furthermore, there is nothing that is broken that can’t be fixed, and if we can’t fix it, God can and he will.

I had a thought at first, that maybe these dreams were just coincidence, since many of my dreams have to do with things I’ve recently seen or read or done, but I’ve decided that I no longer believe in coincidence. everything happens for a reason, even if that reason is simply to start something else. We can take things as random, or we can take them as inspiration. I prefer the latter.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

“The Waking”

I don’t have time for a long post now. I don’t think I’m going to get much sleep this week. I have an essay due every single day. Long ones at that. Anyway, I thought I’d share a poem because like music, poetry is AWESOME for spiritual peace and balance.

The Waking
by Theodore Roethke
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.

 

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

 

Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

 

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

 

Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

 

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.

Enjoy! ❤