Bea has been having trouble sleeping. She’s never been great at it, but lately she’s become so anxious about it that she’s often awake at  11 or even midnight. We went to talk to a friend who is a therapist about the problem. Our friend went through the usuals: a bedtime routine, the bed as a cozy spot, visualizations for self calming. We’d heard it before, and though Bea earnestly listened, trying to be good, I could tell she was disappointed that the therapist wasn’t going to give her a silver bullet, a surefire trick. But then, unbeknownst even to the therapist, she did.

“What do you every night? Maybe not right away, but eventually,” our friend asked.

Bea looks stumped for a second, then made a guess: “Sleep?”

“Yes. Has there ever been a night when you didn’t sleep?” 

Bea nodded no and I noticed a light coming on behind her eyes, a light that simultaneously indicated that the idea was simplistic and yet very true.  

Three nights have gone by since and it’s worked like a charm. Each night, Bea says, “I am a good sleeper. I am a good sleeper. Every night, I fall asleep.” And by-golly, she does it! Just like that. She’s recalibrated her relationship to sleep.

There’s a lot of recalibration going on in the world right now. Altering perception. Seeing gray where before there was only black. Feeling thankful where previously you felt presumption or even ignorance.  A friend’s husband came  home from work tonight in a much better mood than when he’d left that morning. A lecturer at the local college, he’d expected to be laid off today, but  instead discovered that he and his colleagues would have to teach an extra class. For the time being, their jobs are safe. Though I know the same job has struck him as a ball and chain at other times, today it is a blessing.

I got a notice that one of the several jobs I’ve applied for is on hold until spring due to the employer’s financial situation. But a book project is suddenly heating up and I’ll be plenty busy through spring, even if some of the payment won’t come until later. Still, I have just enough money to get me through. So I’ll recalibrate and see it as a good thing – time to finish a project that has the potential to be fulfilling.

The snow is starting to melt. This weekend when it gets near 50-degrees, the patches of mud and the months-old dog poop will suddenly be an aesthete’s nightmare. But there will also be the tiniest whiff of spring in the air. The sun is starting to feel a bit closer, a little more intense. It’s a reminder that winter will end, and so much of what appears to be frozen or ugly will warm up to blossom and nourish us again.