You Can't Get It Wrong
I woke up at 3am with my head buzzing with ideas. This actually happens more than I’d like and I sometimes find myself jealous of those who tell me, “I can sleep and sleep and sleep!”
This morning I woke with a fresh thought, and insight that was peculiar. It was something to the effect of wanting an assignment. Which got me to remember the different Emerging Voices homework assignments over the past six months with a group of amazing people who I now see as family, and my noticing of how I really just wanted someone (in this case our mentor/coach, Michael Neill) to tell me exactly what to do, what to write about, what to speak about and where to take it.
This was definitely a new thought in the way that I usually have thought of myself as at least wanting to be original, at the very least pretending my best not to be boring.
Then I had another thought that rested well with me under the covers.
Of course I didn’t get up because why should I let inspiration or wisdom wake me up when I’m tired. This is a struggle that I’m obviously losing here, but oh well.
Maybe it has a cool ending. Or not. Either way, I keep going.
Right back to my new thought which was the first thing that popped in my head after the wishing to work on an assignment bit.
And it’s this:
Why are you always preparing for a test that will never come? Which led to.... You can’t get it wrong.
I woke up got out bed, stumbled through my bedside drawer in the dark, and instead of finding my little notebook that I thought was placed perfectly for moments like these, I find a pen (lucky me!) and a folded up note. I tossed the note aside, got up and went into the other room and grabbed a piece of paper from the printer. Now at this point I thought I was making way too much noise, especially when I knocked my Magic Ninja cup off its base somehow with my pen, I think? Not sure but I felt like I was off my base, yet again.
But that’s okay because I’m used to this feeling.
This feeling of getting it wrong. Of being off base. As if there’s some test in the future I must pass. And all of the horses of made up reality came tumbling down when I realized that all of the moments I was feeling tight and unsure and not wanting to upset, and is this perfect enough
and oh shit I screwed up again – was just me preparing for a future test that doesn’t exist and me trying to stop the beauty of waking up at 3am with ideas and inspiration.
Maybe everything is supposed to look unpolished and messy. I don’t know.
All I know right now is that I kind of really like the feeling of being messy, and for some reason the idea of of waking up in the middle of night (if I want to) doesn’t sound all that strange, it’s actually kind of nice.
And I can’t get being Human wrong.
None of us can.
This time I did get back to sleep for a couple fitful hours and left me with bizarre dreams to leave at my pillow. And that folded up note in my drawer, well, I looked in my drawer and it was an old letter to the Tooth Fairy written by my youngest daughter, the last one she wrote before not believing anymore that I stashed away.
I see now, well, she wakes up in the middle of the night to write something down too.
It’s all messy beautiful.