This is not the same as writing in a journal, which I used to do sometimes when I would wake up in the middle of the night. I’d write down my dreams, and there was/is something so personal, alive, cozy about writing that way. At the same time, though, it’s always so hidden away, and sometimes typing is just so much… FASTER. Sometimes it gives you a chance to keep up with your thoughts.
And what’s more, someone else can read this. Even far away. At another time. And that can be a wonderful thing.
So here I am, tapping away at a keyboard, looking in the darkness at the glow of this screen, much better than a CRT screen certainly, but alien and harsher than other forms of light nonetheless, rather than going to sleep. I lay down for a while and read with the itty-bitty book light, something I haven’t done for a while. Finally I turned it off and was heading towards sleep perhaps. But my head was buzzing with life.
I’m reading The Magical Child, which Lara gave me for my birthday, and it’s really just incredible. It’s a deep exploration of the potential of the human brain and of the growth of intelligence in children, and it’s truly humbling, reminds me of how detached from life we all are compared to where we once were. The last chapter I read was a scathing critique of hospital births‚Äîit explored each step of the traditional birth model that still exists today and is still prevalent throughout our society, and found the process seriously wanting. It makes me gladder than ever that we chose to have a home birth, and it also makes me wish that Erika had spent, say, the first two weeks not just close as she was to Anna, but naked and carrying her at all times… Hmm. That doesn’t quite sound right, but the point is that the brain develops (according to this guy) through stimulus, and that the close physical stimulus of the mother THROUGHOUT THE DAY is absolutely the best thing for the child. I count for something too, to be sure, but I can see how, come on, let’s start with first things first‚Äîmom rocks.
And Erika does rock. She’s so engaged, so inquisitive about Anna, so utterly connected to Anna’s emotions, it’s wonderful. I also feel pretty lucky to be so connected to this beautiful new being, but I still know I’m not as close as she.
That’s not the point. What’s the point? There isn’t one this time around‚Äîin case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m rambling.
But there was something there… don’t you just love those late night musings? Don’t you just wish you could capture them all? Sort of like how in Until The End Of The World everyone just gets addicted to their own dreams…
but WAIT.
I was really going to say something. I get off on these tangents and I want to throw in a link and I have to go look it up, etc…
What I was going to say was this:
I lay there, my head buzzing, before I resolved to burn some of that creative energy actively by getting up, and I was listening to my wife and my child sleeping, and I couldn’t hear much because really I was listening to the sound of an alpine stream which we play at somewhat high volume to help Anna sleep. And it’s quite pleasant to listen to, although I also keep getting these weird interchanges in my head about what’s more natural for Anna‚ÄîI mean on the one hand it’s this loud digitally reproduced sound which seems artificial and mechanical and is broadcast somewhat heavy-handedly through two speakers, but on the other hand, it IS a nature sound we’re reproducing, as opposed to the sterile quiet of the sealed house in which we live, quite removed from natural surroundings really, so isn’t it an improvement?
So anyway, I suddenly remembered, through my whole body, that I’m a primate. And so, most likely are you. Actually if there are any non-primates reading this, I’m VERY INTERESTED and you should let me know :)
But:
I’m a primate.
I breathed a great deep breath and felt some whiff of millenia-old contentment pass through my body as I realized that my family is safe, and happy, and probably not going to be eaten by tigers. And I felt pretty good about that.
(Although I didn’t really think about the tiger bit until now‚Äěthat’s just fluff to explain the feeling via language written on a keyboard and transmitted through electrical lines to pulse this way and that and perhaps light a fire somewhere else.)
And then, perhaps because life is so good, so truly astoundingly good, and all our basic needs seem to be easily met, I had to get up and muck with it by feeding the electronic group brain. It feels good though.
But now I’m hungry.
