At 3am I woke up from the third nightmare of the evening and could not bring myself to go back to sleep for another hour. I reluctantly got up, only a little perturbed that my husband wasn’t already awake. He usually is, and now I’d have to make my own coffee. How dare he?!

…grumble…

Stupid nightmares. These ones were bad and all of them involved my sons being either very mean to me or abandoning me somewhere. One had me up crying for ten minutes; I couldn’t get through to either of them what I was trying to say.

Hmm… it seems my youthful nightmares of not being heard have evolved. Man do I hate recurring dreams like this. I wake up as if I never slept. It’s been a while since I had a night like that.

I stumbled out into the dark living room, started the coffee that I had set up the night before, and went to the window. Flipped on the porch lights…

Damn.

The snow the weather report promised didn’t come.

…sigh…

But at least it wasn’t as cold as yesterday, and the wind had stopped. Positives.

And getting up early would give me an extra hour to read. Another positive.

Dog fed, coffee acquired, hunkered down in my spot on the couch, I opened my book.

I started reading Joseph Campbell’s The Masks of God: Primitive Mythology yesterday and I’m enjoying bits of it immensely, even it is a bit out of my reach. I wrote in my reading journal, “Like the Rebellion from Darth Vadar’s fingers, my full understanding slips away each time I think I’m getting close.”

Good news, I found a podcast called Pathways with Joseph Campbell. Episode One starts with his lectures on the essence of the books. I’m listening to it while I do the housework and it’s helping me get closer to grasping the material.

The sun came out as I read, more of my morning routing was accomplished, still wrestling with that nightmare hangover. That’s when I decided to go for a walk to the mailbox… alone! All I need is a change of space for a moment, to “blow the stink off” as my mom says.

I’m not sure why I don’t walk alone more often. I never like going, but I do enjoy it, and usually feel good when I get home. I feel powerful and brave. Silly, I know, but I’m not all that fond of being alone at all, physically or emotionally.

I usually make excuses like; I’m waiting for my husband to finish his workday so I can take him with me. He needs the exercise… like I’m walking the dog.

He doesn’t usually want to go. Or does he? He wants to, but usually has something else he wants to do more or feels that he has to do. His priority is not exercise… “or spending quality time with me” my grumpy inner voice grumbles.

I know that’s not true. It’s the lack of sleep blues talking.

Our mailbox is about a mile away from the house. The same dogs bark from behind their fences, even though they see me all the time. They think they are chasing me off. You win, pups! I’m going! There’s a horse that sometimes comes to the fence so I can pet him. That’s a good sign. I love other people’s horses.

The clouds were interesting, dark in the west on the mountains, looking like snow, but breaking through, sunny and warm to the southeast. I could see San Jacinto in the distance. The new houses with their wild designs being built nearby. I didn’t stop to take pictures. Maybe next time I will.

Maybe I’ll make this a habit, walking in the morning to the mailbox. It did make me feel better to be outside moving after all the cold and windy days we’ve had. And I can always take another walk in the afternoon if the man has time, he does like that.

The walk back was brighter and then it started to spit rain at me. I saw a few jackrabbits bound away, a scrub jay making racket, and I took down my dirt bike tire Christmas wreath that I had up at the end of my driveway on my way back up.

I stopped to admire the western view from the top of the driveway. I’ve been taking a picture of the sunrise every day because it’s easy to do. I don’t have be outside long. But… what if I walked out to the driveway and took a picture of the sunset every night? We do have some amazing ones. I’ll have to set an alarm on my phone. I always miss the sunset.

Feeling better now. Still down, but I’m remembering that feelings are only passing through, like storm clouds. “Gluggavedur,” nothing to do but watch them go by, with a cup of tea in my hands… and maybe a cookie.