The Joy of An Early Night

“It’s in the morning, for most of us. It’s that time, those few seconds when we’re coming out of sleep but we’re not really awake yet. For those few seconds we’re something more primitive than what we are about to become. We have just slept the sleep of our most distant ancestors, and something of them and their world still clings to us. For those few moments we are unformed, uncivilized. We are not the people we know as ourselves, but creatures more in tune with a tree than a keyboard. We are untitled, unnamed, natural, suspended between was and will be, the tadpole before the frog, the worm before the butterfly. We are for a few brief moments, anything and everything we could be. And then…and then — ah — we open our eyes and the day is before us and … we become ourselves.” 
Jerry Spinelli

 

For months on end it seems we have run around like mad things with our plates heaped with work and family and life in general. And slowly I’ve been feeling worn down by it all. I’m still okay in myself, but I knew I’d lost my bounce. I knew I’d stretched myself a little thin.

Last night at our little farm the sky darkened, cloud gathered and it began to rain; soft lovely rain that beat a gentle drum on the roof and dripped from the eaves like quiet music.

Inside I made a fire in the grate, and read for a while. Ben put on headphones to listen to a football game. The house was warm and cosy, evening bumped at the windows with her chill and suddenly I found myself unable to keep my eyes open. At seven o’clock at night!

I decided to take advantage of the quiet and put myself to bed early. I put some lavender, rose and ylang-ylang essential oils in my diffuser. I dressed in old and comfortable pyjamas and slid down between the cool sheets. One of the dogs jumped up beside me and snuggled in, giving me an instant warmth. I lay for a while listening to frogs croaking and the steady drip of rain, and then somehow I drifted up to sleep.

This morning the house is cool and smells of woodsmoke and lavender. Now I’ve finished my meditation I’ll stoke the fire and make a cup of tea, then perhaps I’ll sit for a while and write.

I feel a deep calm. Sleep has restored something precious to me.
Thank goodness for the healing power of an early night. I hope that those of you who need one find time for one soon too!

Much love to you, Nicole ❤  xx

 

Sleepy Morning

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“I like it when it rains hard. It sounds like white noise everywhere, which is like silence but not empty.”
~ Mark Haddon, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time

 

I woke to the sound of rain.

It was soft at first, a comforting patter of drops on the old iron roof.

It made me want to snuggle back under the covers, but meditation is so long a practice in me now that I eased my body up and crept quietly from the bedroom.

As I sat in the cool, dark pre-dawn of my tiny lounge, the light rain became hard.

The sound of the rain on the roof obliterated all else. It made its own kind of music, easy to get lost in.

When the sun approached the dark crescent of our world she stole the rain away.

Now the air is scented with earth and damp foliage. The sky is heavy with low cloud. And the last raindrops are being shaken from the leaves and branches. They fall in tiny tunes on the tin.

I shall make a pot of tea.

While the house slumbers I will write.

I love the quietness of these solitary beginnings. Just me, the birds, the clouds and the rain-soaked paddocks.

Up comes the sun.

Good Morning. I wish for you, and for myself, a day of deepening peace.

And to you, my friends on the other side of the world, sweet slumbers and soothing dreams.

Bless xx

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Gentle Rain

Rain Drops

“The only noise now was the rain, pattering softly with the magnificent indifference of nature for the tangled passions of humans.” 
Sherwood Smith

 

I’ve lain awake for much of the night, listening first to a thunderstorm, and later, to the gentle sound of rain falling.

I can hear the gurgle of rain in the gutters, the soft croak of happy frogs, the far-off roar of trucks on the highway, the noise of which only ever carries on nights like these.

There is the sound of rain on the tin roof, sharp and bright. There is the muted plunks of raindrops falling on the leaves and grass.

Since early this morning there has been a new sound, the tinkling joyful sound of water running in the creek.

There is something very affirming about rain. And as the day dawns, and I make a cup of tea with water harvested from previous rainfalls I like to thing of those drops from heaven, mixing with my tea leaves, and making a magical elixir to nurture my body, mind and spirit.

Travel gently today, dear friends. Much love to you xx

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