Observations from my couch

I slept on my couch last night for the first time.  Of course, I’ve dozed off there before, but this time it was intentional.   It was a warm, humid night and I wanted to be in the back of my house to avoid hearing the garbage trucks in the early morning. It had been a late night.

The first thing I noticed was the overwhelming sound of the crickets – they were crazy loud.  When I opened my eyes to look out the sliding glass doors, the view pleased me.  It was shadowy, with leafy branches and a dark gray sky promising rain. The scene was very different from what I see when I look through my bedroom windows in the front of my house and I felt the difference in vantage point might be just what I needed.

During the night the rain moved in.  Finally.  I was cozy with my sheet and cashmere robe, which doubled as a luxurious throw, and I kept my eyes firmly shut as I imagined the rain washing away the anxieties and doubts that have been muddying my waking hours.  The nearness of the rain felt ever so close and somehow intimate.  I welcomed it.

I can’t say it was the most restful night of sleep in my life, as I awoke repeatedly, but I feel as if I learned a few things from the night spent out of my bed.

1. Listen to what you hear and allow it soothe and inspire you
2. A change in vantage point sometimes can be precisely what you need
3. The comforts of a crisp cotton sheet and your favorite robe can make a foreign sleeping spot feel familiar.
4.  While I prefer my firm mattress to the too short sofa, it is nice to remain aware of life’s options.  Always.


Leave a comment

Filed under musings, Observations

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s