Battle Stance in the Shadows
As book lovers, shelves are full of assorted word displays on many topics. Children’s picture books wedge between poetry and how to science experiments. A 2,140-page dictionary fills the second shelf between a New Bible Dictionary and historical timelines. Words have meaning, a history, and an image. The word “shadow” tells an ominous story.
The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language defines a shadow as an area that has no light or is partially illuminated. Because radiation intercepts the area with an opaque object it creates a dark space between the object and the source of radiation. The children’s definition as told by Robert Louis Stevenson offers another version.
“I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me, and what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very, like me from the heels up to the head; and I see him jump before me, when I jump into bed.
The funniest thing about him is the way he like to grow-not at all like proper children, which is always very slow; for he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball and he sometimes gets so little that there’s none of him at all.
He hasn’t got a notion of how children ought to play, and can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
He stays so close beside me, he’s a coward you can see; I’d think it shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!
One morning, very early, before the sun was up, I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup; but my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head, had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.” (“My Shadow”, by Robert Louis Stevenson)
Both descriptions give a glimmer of hope as light is incumbent on its form. My shadows of insomnia tell a different tale. They were much darker. The opaque shroud came day and night no matter the weather or season.
The first autumn, sleeplessness was as consistent as the dying leaves. The slow transition of darker mornings and shorter evenings brought a feeling of heaviness. Winter served the darkest nights. The December solstice in the Northern Hemisphere, is a -23.5 degree tilt away from the sun. My nights felt like despair on a negative axis of 50 with a tilt toward Christ. Spring, the season of re-birth, was a renewal of the same lightless-ness. Summer the chaperon of sweltering blackness.
Insomnia was a full moon in a solar eclipse that blocked the sun from my days. Every evening I took my post as a watchman looking for the dawn. A watchman marches all night to announce the light of the sun with a loud trumpet. My morning always came without a trumpet call.
With darkness came loneliness. Every night we tucked the children in and prayed over them. Every night Robert and I would pray and tuck ourselves in with a united love for each other and Christ. The house would grow quiet with only the sounds of fans turning a rhythmic hum. And then, in a full house of sleepers, I fought the battle of the night alone. My broken body would not surrender to the dark. Some battles were won with breathing exercises, natural supplements, light reading, and worship music. But there was never a full nights rest. The Lord and I would walk back and forth through the valley covered in a shadow.
My breathing battle stance was flat on my back at the foot of our bed. I’d drag my pillow to the worn carpet floor and crawl into position. My head spinning with thoughts of fear. My body worn down by another night of sleepless demands.
I’d spread my legs wider than hip width with my arms flat and my hands open upward hoping to receive the Lord’s peace. The goal was to breathe and train the mind to rest. Breath in. Expand the belly. Breath out. Concave the belly. Breath in the left side of your nose. Breath out the right side of your nose. Breath in colorless gas. Breath out colorless gas.
Breathing was a visit to Six Flags amusement park. I would ride Kingda Ka, a 456-feet tall roller coaster with a 416-foot descent at the first hill. A spiral twist, a corkscrew loop, and 180-foot drop with speeds of 72 m.p.h. was around the next corner. The terrifying rides stimulated my adrenal glands with fear. I battled to return them to their Pre-Six Flags entry state. But on some occasions, the mind would rest and the calm rhythms of still waters would bring some ease. I persevered with the exercises. At least I wasn’t lying alone in my bed fighting a winless climb up. The floor was new topography to my solar eclipse. Breathing was a flashlight to the long night.
Before the winter solstice, my previous stance was couch lounging. I would flip the remote to numb the mind. Late night TV dramas converted to a habitual natural supplement cocktail. My pre-bed appetizer took 30–45 minutes to prepare. The first step was a pre-soak magnesium and lavender bath in scalding water for 20 minutes. Then a warm tea of; magnesium, salt, baking soda, calcium, and potassium brewed. Finally, a palm full of natural sleep aids like Melatonin swallowed as a midnight snack at 10pm. I drank before bed emptying bottles like an alcoholic.
Some nights the shadows scrolled back until 2am leaving me awake till 5am. Some battles brought sleep later in the skirmish from 1–6am. The worst attacks were shadows from 2am until the next pre-bed appetizer. I ran more dark shadow marathons than my body could endure. The words of Christian musicians were my power cords. I ran the stairs like Sylvester Stallone in Rocky III listening to the song “The Eye of the Tiger” on my back. Worship music would sing my heart to peace from darkness to the dawn of the next day.
Insomnia continued like a 3pm shadow following a meandering child. It came in and out with me like my own children’s book stuck on an unending audio loop. I knew sleeplessness from my head to my toes. It made a fool of me in every way as my mind couldn’t keep up with less rest and more demands. The children always woke up ready to face the joys of the day. I was already awake ready to work again, hoping for sleep.
