We came home. To the end. Of the world.
The long-awaited completion of the Lego masterpiece was thwarted. Ruined. Disaster.
One solitary piece. Right in the middle of this labor of love. Misplaced.
And, worse, its creator was far past the edge of exhaustion.
Emotions ran high. Devastation cut to the core. The last time something like this happened, he threw his work to the ground in anguish-tinged frustration, shattering it to a thousand pieces.
Knowing the potential of the charged energy in the air, I tried to intervene. Channeling all of my heart and mind to implore him to meet my eyes. And, in that connection, appeal to something true and wise (and sleep-agnositc) inside him to hear me when I suggested he simply go to bed. To wait until he woke to try to solve this. In fact, perhaps it would not need solving at all.
Often, I explained, things look different in the morning. Solutions we thought impossible, miraculously appear. Right at our fingertips.
Appeased, he was not. Calm, he was neither. But, he must have been just tired enough to give in. His drowsy little body finding peace in slumber and melting my heart with the ache.
The next morning, I awoke to his beaming face. Standing by my bedside, smile spread ear to ear.
“Mom, you were right!”
“What? It was fine after all?”
“No. I slept like you told me to…and I figured it out!”
So proud. Glowing. Triumphant. Catastrophe narrowly averted. It was a puzzle he could easily solve once he was rested and rejuvenated. (How often is that the case?!?)
Lesson learned. And, at ten… For me, this lesson came much later in life. The number of nights I’ve spent tangled up in a conundrum. Getting increasingly knotted as I tire, leading me only to wrestle and tire more, all the way down the vicious spiral. It pains me to think of it. So many nights I struggled…when I could have (should have) been sleeping…
Throughout much of my life, I remember hearing the age-old adage – “Sleep on it.” Each time, I registered it only as arbitrary background noise. Not giving much thought to what it suggested or why. If anything, I thought perhaps it was a delay tactic requiring one to wait until tomorrow for an answer. (Ever one for action, I never found that resonant…)
But, no. Turns out, sometimes, we need that time to process. To integrate. Other times, we need to step away. Disengage. Maybe rest.
Returning refreshed, the answer is often simply there. Available. Even having shown no signs of such mere hours ago.
A beautiful, full circle reminder that almost everything looks better in the morning. When in doubt (or fear, anxiety, exhaustion, so on…), sleep on it.