The anti-fright night
The strangest thing happened last night: I laughed myself awake.
I was already heading to bed too late as it was (a nasty post-traveling habit). Visions of the early snow and the lingering scent of winter wouldn't leave me. I was snug and cozy beneath the covers. But instead of drifting into la-la land, my brain decided it was playtime.
Cue all sorts of fanciful daydreams about the upcoming holiday season. I pictured Fella arriving at my parents' house under cover of a light December snow. I saw the whole La Vigilia table laid out with more candles than a European cathedral. I could feel my friend's baby bouncing on my knee again. I inserted guests who might come and sat them next to relatives I never thought they'd meet. I scripted every dirty joke, every silly action, every loud conversation that could possibly occur with every conceivable combination of friends and family over any number of probable meals.
And I put myself in such a good mood that I stayed up for another hour, just smiling and castle-building.
What a way to greet the night: not with things that go bump, but things that make you grin.
Prayer #186: Sweet Dreams
You arrive in the moment my eyelids flutter against the deepening dark.
You wait for the moment my muscles forgo their stubborn insistence on perpetual motion.
You reach out at the moment my mind puts aside today's reality and doesn't yet worry about tomorrow's.
You hold me in the moment when only gravity tethers me to my bed,
And with a gentle snip,
You release me into weightless joy.