Eight Hours

Most people like naps. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I can't handle them. Today I tried once again. Don't get me wrong, I was in need of one. My body was heavy and my blinks were getting longer. I took off my shoes, climbed underneath the covers and let my body settle and my breathing slow. And with that final breath and I was under the spell of an afternoon nap.

As you can see, I have no trouble getting to sleep. It's when I wake up disoriented, confused, sluggish, and groggy that I remember that I don't like naps. Today, I woke aware of how unproductive I've been. I was aware of how hard it has been to adjust to Michigan. I was aware of how much I miss close relationships. I should have known I would be feeling down. Jono and I have talked about this a number of times and we both have had the same experience. We go to take a nap but wake up
with feelings of purposelessness, confusion or sadness. We've dubbed it PND: Post Nap Depression. (Does anybody else suffer from PND besides us two? We should have some sort of PND Anonymous meeting where we all share how well we've napped the past week).

When you think about it, sleeping is a strange thing anyways. I don't understand how sleep finds its place in our western construct in which productivity is the main value. Maybe we think of it more as recharging our battery so we can work better; it's a useless time in which we are shut off. But look at a person while they are sleeping. They are just laying there in the dark with their eyes closed, totally cut off from their senses. But they are still alive! And they could be doing other things! But they aren't. And for six to eight hours at a time! Just laying there. What is that doing for society? Why hasn't somebody invented some way to avoid losing eight hours of productivity per day?

But what if productivity wasn't meant to be so important? If, instead, being is the main value (that is, being in alignment with God's design for living), then sleep is part of a rhythm of resting and working that yields growth. What does it matter that I am just laying there? What does it matter that I am not getting things done? What does it matter if I'm producing anything or not? For eight hours the voice of productivity is irrelevant. For eight hours God invites me to enter into His rhythm of being. Asleep I am healing, I am growing, I am breathing, I am releasing.

It's almost eleven. I feel tired. I'm going to sleep.