I’ve said before that bedtime seems to be the cue for my brain to fire on all cylinders and run wild while I’m trying to settle down and sleep. Some nights I’m more successful than others.
I don’t know about you, but my brain function and resulting thoughts are very, very different depending on which side I lie: when I lie on my left side, my thoughts are more deliberate and concrete, as if I have to ‘tell’ my brain what to think about. However, when I turn over, which I do often, it feels as if my creativity has been unleashed and torrents of unconnected and random thoughts, images, and colors flood my head. Most of the time, I don’t even have the words to describe it.
I get all kinds of inspiration and ideas while I’m waiting for sleep, but (for the most part) only when I’m on my right side. And if I am ruminating on something – say, a potential blog topic – and I turn over, it’s gone. I struggle to recall what I thought about only seconds before. This is so frustrating! While on my right side, I will have some brilliant, elaborate gem of an idea, and rather than rouse enough to write it down, I convince myself I’ve cemented it in my consciousness – only to turn over and lose it completely. The worst part is, my paper and pen are only reachable if I’m on my left side.
Does this happen to you? I have taken many of those pop culture ‘left/right brain dominance’ evaluations, and I usually end up right in the middle. (Fun fact: you can find plenty of articles debunking that theory, like this one: http://www.livescience.com/39373-left-brain-right-brain-myth.html and this one: http://www.npr.org/sections/13.7/2013/12/02/248089436/the-truth-about-the-left-brain-right-brain-relationship.) I also rank pretty evenly between visual, kinesthetic, and auditory learning. (Learning style and preference theories are also contested; there is a great body of research surrounding and informing the different approaches.) So maybe ‘right brain/left brain’ isn’t a thing.
But why does my brain work differently when I change position? Makes no sense to me.
Anyway, it struck me as strange.
image credit HockeyholicAZ for modup.net
I try very hard to be thankful in my life, even for the bad things. (That’s tough, but I believe you need to be grateful at both ends of the spectrum and all in between.) And I try to recognize and express my appreciation and gratitude regularly and honestly.
Tonight I was thinking about that, and I wanted to share it with you.
I like to be appreciated. I think we all do. I think it’s important to acknowledge and appreciate others. So I try to return favors and give thanks for all the thoughtful little things in my day. Mr. Stuck is the author of a great many of them, so this one’s for him:
thank you for carrying the laundry basket
thank you for opening jars (and bottles and boxes and envelopes and cans and buckets) when my hands hurt
thank you for turning off my Kindle and tucking me in at night when I fall asleep reading
thank you for the flowers you bring home for no reason at all
thank you for remembering the tasks I forget
thank you for doing the vacuuming and sweeping and mopping
thank you for waking up in the middle of the night to help me with my excruciating leg cramps
thank you for eating whatever I cook without complaint and for trying new things
thank you for telling me you love me every single day
thank you for being able to joke me out of a bad mood
thank you for being my interpreter when I’m not hearing well
thank you for being my cheerleader
thank you for taking the steps to be healthier and happier
thank you for helping me be happier and healthier, too
The more I express gratitude, the happier I am, and the happier I am, the more I express gratitude. My marriage is all the better for it.
Both of us make a habit of saying thank you, not just assuming the other person knows. This is crucial.
I thank him for things he does and things he does not do. I thank him for decisions he’s made and goals he sets. I thank him for caring about me, caring about himself, and caring about us. I thank him for being a good father. I thank him for thinking of me and bringing home asparagus. I thank him for putting ice melt on the steps. I thank him for making my day – and life – easier.
Yknow, we all have plenty we can complain about. Despite the impression some people give, it’s not a competition.
I choose instead to say thank you, and that has made a difference.
Found this bit from 2007 while cleaning in my bedroom. Made me smile…thinking nostalgically tonight. B
Music is My Mother
Music is my mother
and all my memories of her.
She sings a hymn,
Whistles while she cooks.
I see her dancing feet
Eyes far away
Back in the day
My mother is music to me.