It seems I bought my big puffy chair just in time last month.  In time for the big cold that would knock me out for the past 2 weeks. I spent lots of time napping in the new chair.  I knew to alternate it with naps in my bed so I wouldn’t get too bored spending so much time in the same room since the cold kept me horizontal.  Before the chair, I’d usually crash on my couch rather than officially going to bed.  But since the advent of the new puffy chair, I have been sleeping in my bedroom more.  I’m not one of those people who calls it a night in typical fashion.  I don’t get in my pajamas and turn down the bed and get in between the sheets.  I typically fall asleep on top of the covers, fully dressed, project in hand.

And I keep my room pitch black – dark out curtains, digital clock face down, the whole nine yards. When I close the door, there’s no light reference at all.  I find that is ideal for me getting good sleep.  But it’s not pitch black when I walk in to the room.  I have two ceramic night lights on the healing bench at the end of the room, one of an angel and one of Blessed Mother, both with red bulbs.  So when I go to bed at night, I typically walk into my room, close the door, turn off those two lights and climb onto my bed.

I can tell where I am on the bed because I can feel the corner as I approach it, and I can feel the wall behind my pillows.   I typically sleep diagonal on the bed, head facing due north.  That way I have lots of arm and leg room, and am not sleeping with my head on top of an electrical outlet.

When I get out of bed at night to powder my nose, I can tell where I am in the dark by how many steps it takes to get to the bathroom. I touch the vanity counter and the bathroom door frame on the way in, so even though it’s dark, I know where I am.  I’ve lived in this house and slept in that room since 1984, so I know where things are.

So last night I went to bed about 1am.  I’ve been really tired all week with this cold, and so I’ve been sleeping a few hours here, a few hours there, just letting my body do what it wants to do.  That’s a luxury I have since I’m my own boss.  I remember going into my room and turning off the nightlights.  I remember rearranging the giant pillows to make just the right nest, and I remember, okay, no, I don’t remember falling asleep…

But I do remember waking up to use the bathroom.  I sat up and threw my legs over the side of the bed, but something didn’t feel right.  I reached to the right for the lamp and didn’t feel it.  I figured it was just another few inches out, but I didn’t actually touch it.  I just assumed it was there.  It always is.  I put my feet on the floor and didn’t feel the soft rug beneath them.  I figured I was near the corner of the bed, and that the rug was simply 6 inches to my right.  But I didn’t reach out and touch it.  I just figured it was there.  It always was.

When I got up, I headed out in the right direction and made about a 6″ course correction.  Half asleep, I reach out to touch the vanity counter for a reference, and manage to knock down a hat tree and an entire row of toiletries which are half a room across from where I thought I was.  WTF?  Well, that sure woke me up, and I turned on the closet light, once I figured out where the closet was.  I couldn’t figure out how I got it so wrong and how I got so twisted around.

It made me think back to times in my life where I was sure I was doing something the right way.  So sure that I didn’t question it, I simply continued doing it the way I thought I was supposed to.  And in the meantime, either what I knew had become obsolete, or I’d forgotten some important step.  Either way, when I thought I was doing something way right, I ended up doing it way wrong.  Often in a big way.

It reminded me that I’m not always where I think I am, no matter how many long I’ve travelled down a path.  It reminded me that without due diligence and checking up on myself every so often, I might be straying little by little off the path I think I’m on.  A mis-step of just a few inches off can take me in a whole ‘nother direction.

And I was reminded that I can’t count on myself for navigation if I am going to ignore the absence of familiar markers, like the lamp and the rug.  I made a choice to forge ahead anyway, despite the fact that I did not actually feel the lamp or the rug.  I was too lazy to reach the extra few inches that would have given me clear evidence of where I was.

But noooooo.  I had to guess each time.  And guess wrong each time.  And move forward while assuming a fact not in evidence.  So when I crash into my own stuff and upset my own apple cart, it’s not like I didn’t have a warning.

It’s not as though I couldn’t have taken an extra moment to make sure of where I was and make sure I was on the path that would take me where I wanted to go.

I’m allowed to be as lazy as I want to be.

I just need to be prepared to take responsibility for where I end up at the end of the day.

Every day.

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