Rose, out in the morning mist
I am sleeping well, and if I can sleep well on a book tour, I can sleep well most anyplace. A lot of old habits going down the drain. Reliance on pills, aids, CD’s, advice, doctors, websites, remedies, what everybody’s mama said, meditations, visualizations, breathing exercises, prayer and the self-help books that promise instant relief in just 30 days.
I am letting my body and mind handle it, not looking outside of myself for cures and instant happiness, as we are conditioned to do from birth. Both seem grateful, and are rising to the challenge, a new experiment for me, and an important and successful one so far.
So many experts, and so much misery. Nobody ever made much money – except my therapist, I guess – telling people they can handle it themselves, that one of the best and cheapest available tools is to rely on yourself, and trust that you are strong and smart enough to figure it out.
There is nothing wrong with getting help. I’ve gotten plenty. But it’s nice to put yourself on the list.
This country is obsessed with remedies and fix-its, fueled by the ready availability of information on the Net, some of it good, some bad, and few ways to know. The dog people, I know, are always transmitting panics about food, diet and disease via the Web and mailing lists, one of the great carriers of hysteria ever conceived in the world. People have actually told me I am abusing my dogs by feeling them Science Diet, citing many absolutely reliable authorities.
But here’s the amazing thing. I’ve struggled with sleep for decades, and taken countless pills and tried innumerable remedies. In two weeks, I’ve gone further alone – my therapist, Maria, some friends have helped – than I have gone in all of those years.
Perhaps I’m just ready to take these things on. Perhaps I can handle it myself. I am not content to wallow in these problems for the rest of my life. I am determined to move forward, and one of the experts I am frequently consulting is wise, motivated, and knows me very well – me.