Last night was one of those mental tug-of-wars so many parents can relate to. I heard my three year old calling out for me around 1:25am, only to find him standing in his doorway, tears streaming down from a bad dream. I carried him back to bed and climbed right in with him so he could snuggle up and regulate. There are plenty of opinions about staying above the covers or under, leaving before they fall back asleep or after… but I read the situation and it called for mom under the covers until we fall asleep.
And so began the age-old battle.
Not of trying to fall asleep, but of trying not to.
Identifying the right thoughts to focus on (that are stimulating enough to keep you from dozing, but not so stimulating that you can’t fall back asleep in your own bed after making your daring escape) is a challenge like no other.
I opted not to think about the current states of the world, our bank account, or my to-do list (all far too stimulating), and actually found myself here, in a liminal Substack content-planning mode where I could visibly see words flowing out and forming poignent sentences in my mind. I was peacefully floating between alpha and theta states and relaxed into all of the swirly ideas that were forming.
But then, panic set in. My brain shifted from enjoying the creative flow to full-blown anxiety (hello, stimulating beta waves) that there was no way to actually capture these words and sentences, these essays of thought: I’m not at my computer, I don’t have my phone, and I’ll never be able to recall them.
My phone.
Tiktok.
Instagram.
I should create a carousel about that essay, and record a video talking about the main part…
I should post more.
Everyone else does it, why is it hard for me?
Girl, a million reasons.
I should send an email to my email list.
Girl, you need more subscribers.
I should make sales funnel email flow for my services.
Girl, when?
But if I write the Substacks and post the things and send the emails and automate the flows and track it all in my notion and maybe outline that workshop and draft a digital class and…. I should….
Full. Stop.
My heart was racing.
My son seemed to be asleep.
I tried to slide out of his bed and heard, “mama?”.
So I crawled back in, determined to slow my breathing and return to that lovely theta state. I didn’t allow my brain to think about anything other than golden light flowing through my body, filling every limb and digit and cell with peace. Then, I flowed that golden energy through me into my son, swirling through all of his cells and filling them with warmth, comfort, love.
And then we were both asleep (and I spent most of the night in his room).
Takeaways:
Should is a stimulant.
It’s a word we typically don’t allow in our house.
But I’ve learned it’s alive and well in my brain.
Embodiment always holds the answers.
It brings the calm.
It brings the medicine.
Our minds, when unleashed, are faster than AI.
While they may not be as accurate and factual, they can multiply and compound ideas brilliantly.
We underestimate them too much.
We rely on a screen for them to function far too often.
Sleeping with your kiddo is A-ok.
The window when they want to tuck their feet in your belly only lasts so long.
And the sweetness they whisper when they’re falling asleep is the stuff that melts your heart into a million pieces.
Stop judging yourself for giving in.
Their softness is also medicine.
Thanks for reading and letting me share the midnight spirals, the golden light, and a glimpse of the grace that lives inside the mess.
~Jess
I so love and appreciate this!
So aligned with this journey!