I attribute this significant change in my lack of routine to Lent.
Easter has never been my favorite holiday. It became one of my least favorite holidays after my grandmother died... I guess I started to feel bitter about people getting so excited about Jesus and what Gd did to relieve him from death. How much trouble would it have been for a Gd that could raise the dead to keep my grandmother healthy and alive for another decade or two? That aside, I usually celebrate Easter by relieving myself from whatever Lenten chore I had set for myself over the past 40 days and nights.
While I did sleep in this Easter, it wasn't a great experience.
I felt sort of- off balance. Heavy. I had to make bread for my family gathering Easter eve, so, I had to get up before the late afternoon anyway... I picked something moderately complicated, as you can see below:
I still hold that 40 days and nights is a perfect amount of time to work almost anything out of your system (save nourishment and water... let's not be silly). I was physically uncomfortable sleeping in as late as I did Easter morning. I prefer the sensation of stretching through the grogginess and feeling my body gradually wake as I brush my teeth and put in my contacts. I have been notorious for late nights lasting well into the ung-dly hours of the morning... but, here I am, having slightly less trouble, despite the dreary weather, getting up earlier after 40 days and 40 nights of forcing myself to rise before 12.
I've started craving it- having a little time in the dimly sunlit morning to sip my tea, maybe read, and just spend some time being myself before getting to the details of my day. I am rarely successful- I have yet to convince myself to get out of bed before I actually have to get up in order to be somewhere on time. On a nowhere-to-go, nothing-to-do sort of morning, I'll be in bed until at least 10:30. I still have to take Benadryl at night (thanks to one of my new doctors acquired during the Lenten season), so, that messes a little with my "bright-eyed and bushy tailed-ness," too. And that, sometimes, just gets me down. I just feel lousy for being unable to rise with the light of day...
...but, I try other things. During the Earth Week(s) celebrations, it occurred to me during a few discussions that we mess up our bodies a little, in terms of getting naturally tired, by turning on a bunch of lights at the end of the day. To conserve electricity, and to see if I might get naturally tired earlier at night if it's not so bright in the apartment, we've tried spending a few nights here and there during which we don't use lights. We avoid the TV, too, playing Pandora on the lap top and using candles everywhere to light our way.
And that actually works pretty well... I have started yawning as early as 10:15 PM.
I'd like to think I'm changing my relationship with night and day. There's a certain nostalgia, a certain "me-ness" to thinking of myself as a night owl... sitting awake late into the night writing, listening to music, maybe even feeling sadder or sillier than I allow myself to feel when people are looking. I still like the concealment of the dark for my secrets and pondering... and yet, the morning can hold that feeling as well. Most people are groggy, sleepwalking through their routine... if you can be conscious, and spend some quality time breathing, sipping tea, and being still before the day's chores begin, your secrets will be quietly kept.
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