4:04 AM

A few years ago, during a time of extreme, extended personal stress, my internal clock broke.

It still keeps time, but it also has a mind of it's own.  It insists, consistently,  that I wake up at stupid o'clock in the morning.  Every morning.


For a few years, without fail, my internal alarm started ringing at exactly 4:04 AM.  What the hell?

I have mulled, considered, analyzed, and worried over my broken clock.  I have seen the doc (sleeping pills are AWFUL - I simply wake up at stupid o'clock with a really bad taste in my mouth, feeling like I haven't slept at all due to the miserable quality of that sleep).  I've limited caffeine (which does help me to FALL asleep) and, for a short, hellish time, eliminated it altogether (nonononono).  I have exercised earlier in the day, had warm baths in the evening, set aside the hour before bed as a sacred "quiet" time.  I have stayed up until ungodly hours, trying to reset the rhythm.  I have tried to sort out what 4:04 might signify (no clue - I've got nothin').

No dice - "Brrrrrrrrrrrring!!!"

For the past year it has been a little more reasonable - most days I'm up at 5:00 (and I'll take that extra hour, believe you me).  Once or twice I slept until after 6:00 (happy dance)!

Still, I am up hours before the world requires anything of me.  And therein lies the gift of this broken clock.

It has given me the opportunity to get to know myself again.  To be still with my thoughts.  Putter at quiet pursuits that are sweeter for the silence and solitude.  Watch the sun rise.

I'm a mom (of older kids, but two still live at home).  A wife.  A caregiver. An employee, in a position where a 40 hour week is more of a guideline to shoot for than a reality.  My daily life is full to bursting with responsibilities.

And seemingly out of the blue my body/mind/soul made the unilateral decision that, in the midst of taking care of the rest of my world, I needed to carve some time out for ME.  

So my clock and I are on good terms again - I accept the gift it's given me.

Perhaps it didn't break at all.