We have to go outside to get to our bedroom, so at least once a night I’m looking up for stars and moon, which makes me wonder about, you know, the space between here and there and beyond, and what the true nature and substance of God and the planets and galaxies might be, whether we are God’s cells, for example, or are alone. Anyway, I find myself reaching up, thinking about higher purposes, and wanting to know what mine is, or yours, if there is such a thing. Wanting the best in me (and you) to shine forth. I want to be fully awake.
(Actually, I don’t look this glamorous at night, as if I’m wearing make-up, and in real life the dressing gown looks more like something I share with the dog.)
Then I get into bed and my thoughts join me down here. I want to be warm, free of aches, to be held (or not), for there to be no earthquakes in Christchurch (or here), for my children to be safe and happy, for there to be enough firewood and food for winter. I want to be lulled to sleep.