My mind comes alive at night. Stories, a little on the wild side, take me prisoner. Ideas for new short papers bubble up in my brain and bounce around with possibilities. I become more daring.
There is something about the dark hours that influences me to think deeper, harder and wider. Maybe it is the fact that I can’t sleep. When I am exhausted my brain forces me to put letters together until they finally form a complete conclusion. I do my best evaluation of life when the moon is up, the stars are shining and slothfulness seeps into me.
My head fills with propositions. Promises of silly dreams and wonderful things flow into me. Wretched emotions and tired heartaches attack me. As a teenager my brain tends to wander to impossible wishes and the calamities of my life. My thoughts become a vase filled with endless wants.
The danger is that I relive memories. The past can take over. Painful pictures take me back and pressure me to remember how things used to be. The thoughts form in my head like a worm trying to eat away an apple. No matter how hard I fight, sometimes shadows and vivid recollections invade still. That worm drills itself in one way or another.
I am often “drunk on no sleep,” as my wonderful friend Sarah says. During the night my mind’s process ranges from trying to get out of my own brain by shrinking into my pillows, to coming up with brilliant inventions that I will never make and probably laugh about when the sun finally rises. By morning I am ready to face the day…after I get a cup of coffee, of course.
My best work comes with sleepless nights. When all is quiet, God speaks. I thank Him for the ability to wake up with a new perspective on life.