I’ve been having weird sleep times recently, weird sleep from readjusting to many things; a changeable and ever changing life, nothing stays the same for long ever, not the weather, not the bus or tram time tables, not the work schedule, not the environment, nothing. I’m not used to sameness, haven’t been for ages. Even when I think it’s the same, it’s not.
Sometimes I find myself feeling and thinking that I’m in a monotony sort of thing, and feel uncomfortable with the sameness, but I’ve recently figured out that it’s not actually monotony, it’s actually only about like three weeks of mostly the same sort of experiences. There’s been so long of ever-change that to stay in similar routine for a certain amount of time is to feel stagnant.
But it’s not three weeks; that’s just the easiest time block to explain it in. I’ve been feeling like these constructions of time might be detrimental to feel-nice-times. I work weird hours based on the fluctuations of other people’s drinking habits and live music performances, and end up having weird sleep patterns based around those things, always trying to fit in the other work I have to do based around other peoples’ free times for communications and my own free time for actually doing things. And then I am asked how many hours I work for any given “job”, and I find I have no definitive answer. What are hours when one “hour” feels longer than a different “hour”? What are days when the amount of daylight and sunlight is different in each waking experience?
Funny weather changes have been going on in Melbourne. I’ve been back here for a little bit after doing a mega weather change by going up to the top-end and then coming back to bottom-end after two weeks. I haven’t enjoyed re-acclimatising at all. Tropical Dry up there changing slowly in to The Build Up and then back to Melbourne with its cold cold cold bit of warm cold warm WARM hot HOT HOT WIND HOT cold again.
My therapist told me the other day that when she was in an Indigenous culture training thing recently she was told about “deep listening”; in the way that you would sit with someone and listen to them talk, no talking back, just listening for ages and ages ages, just listening, but to the Earth, not just people, because the environment is as much a part of reality as the humans on it; she described it with an example about the recent blustery wind … she said that the person who was teaching her said that in that Indigenous Deep Listening thing, means that the Earth is angry.
I found myself both questioning whether that is actually what heavy wind means and to whom exactly, but I was also drifting on a little tangent thought of: well, if the Earth is indeed angry, what can I do to appease it? And then I said something about honouring the presence of the angry wind of the Earth, just the idea of doing so, not having any thoughts on how to do so, just feeling of 1: being at the whim of my own emotions and 2: being overwhelmed by the knowledge that I know fucking nothing of the movements of things that I have not been taught of or about.
So how does one honour that?
And I brought that question up and looked at the plants outside the window for a long time, watching the people with high protein diets that drip off their bones walking through the hospital grounds, and my therapist had a moment of feeling bad that she had offered at the beginning of our session to turn the aircon on to appease my sweating (I had politely refused it) and I saw suddenly that we co-existed in a mutual-learning experience.
Change of weather messes with my sleepin’. My recent dreams and hypnogogic states and sleep paralysis times have made me increasingly aware that reality depends on your perspective. It depends on how you treat your time, depends how you approach time, how you approach movements that make you think time is a certain kind of thing. You can do whatever you decide to do and things will get done if you will it, but the fourth dimension always exists deep within our cellular structure or something, maybe, feels like it when you really, really think about it, and if we don’t spend enough of our constructed moments knowing that then there are some serious problems to come up against when you’re at any kind of stand-still in yr life (whatever that life is) when you think “what is this?” or “how did I get here?” or “why”? Because the answer is in your own ignorance of the known truth of your physical make-up.