I’ve had trouble focusing this week.
It’s probably because of the US Presidential election, which, as I write this on Thursday afternoon, does not yet have a winner and, with recounts and lawsuits, may not for some time.
It’s probably because of the result of Leda’s ultrasound, which explained the reason for her belly expanding to the size of her chest: a failing liver.
I’ve never been good at waiting.
But this week I didn’t doomscroll into late night oblivion. I made one small change that made a big difference.
I’ve set bedtime alarms before. They’ve sounded chirping crickets or chimes—like a doorbell but without the visitor.
This time I set the sound of my ‘Go to bed my sleepyhead’ alarm to a song, and it’s working. When I heard the bedtime chirping crickets, I responded to the stimulus like a teenager to a parent, “You can’t tell me when to go to bed!”
But with this song by James Taylor, “You Can Close Your Eyes,” sung by William Fitzsimmons, it’s as if someone who loves me is calling me to bed.
And I go.
I put away what I am doing.
I walk Leda.
I brush and floss my teeth.
I get into my cozy bed.
I write in my little book: one thing I am thankful for today, one thing I accomplished today.
I read a page or two from Gmorning, Gnight!
I scooch down under the covers and pull them up to my chin, making sure both shoulders are covered (my shoulders get cold).
I listen to Leda’s soft sighs.
I go to sleep.
Chewing the Cud of Good
Thankful for walking and sunrise and noticing little things.