It’s late in the evening, or early in the morning depending on your perspective. Most creatures, great and small, have surrendered to sleep following their circadian rhythms. Except for one: me. Eyes open, ears alert, why am I the oddball?
Was the day traumatic, playing through my head like re-run? Is the room too hot, simmering thoughts into bubbles? Or is tomorrow a major life altering event waiting to happen? No, no, and no.
Yet, I’ve been lying here nearly an hour, locked in quiet battle with a mind that refuses to yield.
The late-night parade begins: climate change and their impact, geopolitical strives, and other existential tensions march through like the dazzling billboards at Times Square. One by one. What’s the point? I can offer no resolution, no fix. Just thoughts. Which only keeps me awake.
Hope you sleep well, and don’t dream of me.
Running with Buddha 