I left Baton Rouge, Louisiana yesterday at 6:30 a.m. At 11:30 p.m., 17 hours, 845 miles, an hour layover at a sawmill just south of Jackson, Mississippi, 2 sandwiches, 3 fuel stops, as many potty breaks, a 10 minute pizza break in West Plains, Missouri and a 50 minute nap in the WalMart parking lot in Clinton, Missouri: yes, truckers all understand “White-Line Fever”, when you notice zombie symptoms, that the truck has been driving itself for who knows how long and you need to get off the road, on purpose, before you discover the road has turned without you; no, you don’t push on believing you can summon up fresh eyes and 30 year-old reflexes because you can not, that’s the zombie in you that would just as soon die then and there but pretends to be your friend: so, at 9:45 p.m. I did a WalMart pitstop, took a nap, woke up with cold feet just like I knew I would with a familiar bed less than an hour away but then better that than being upside down in the median.
Unlocking, opening up, carrying in only what you don’t want to freeze, then closing and locking after yourself, checking the basement for water leaks, setting the clock but leaving the alarm turned off, washing down the night regime of vitamins and supplements, going through the motions, before-bed bowl & bladder protocol, I was ready to turn out the light and slide into my sleeping bag, barefoot, in long sleeve pajamas, that’s how it works in winter; feet zipped inside a warm pocket with the rest of me free to unzip or cover up as my biological thermostat requires, an hour after the old, F150 shut down I was in bed, I don’t remember closing my eyes.
I am a dreamer, literally, I dream every night and I usually wake up glad to be not dreaming anymore, either the ‘searching for something’ or ‘being pursued’ or ‘being naked in public when you’re the only one that notices’, that one is crazy but coincidentally, very common just nobody wants to share even the idea of being naked; or my specialty, being a substitute or new teacher with no instructions, no job description, no map or floor plan, only a class list, crowded halls, inattentive or disruptive students and staff members who don’t know anything, can’t help me, not even a nod in the right direction, I didn’t do any of that last night. Last night I dreamt I was in a conversation with a longtime friend about something we disagree on but the exchange was unusually accommodating, thoughtful and honest; we patiently waited for the other to finish a thought or response without the typical, confrontational, talking-on-top-of before one has time to finish a point of argument, the other’s rebuttal presumes an inalienable right to interrupt and dismiss the opposing point before it’s even made, not in last night’s dream.
When I did wake up, the feeling was one of incompletion; the exchange was going somewhere and I’d liked to have been there for the conclusion. In the etherial breach from unconscious to subconscious to conscious, the body starts checking in; it’s dark, it’s not only warm but just right, feet toasty with fresh air on shoulders, arms and face: good morning, I’m me and I’m awake in my own bed, and it feels so good, how does that work? Back 250 generations removed, when my ancestors slept on the ground on a mattress of vegetation, under animal skins; that would have been somewhere near the boundary between the Stone Age and the Bronze Age, around 3000 B.C. I wonder if any of them ever experienced a reassuring, peaceful wake up in their own space with warm feet and cool, fresh air on their face.
Evolution is a simple but generally misunderstood process that would seem to have some kind of control factor, guiding us to where we think we need to be, but that’s now how it works. We, People, tend to get our ‘Cause & Effect’ relationships reversed when it comes to evolution. The idea that giraffes evolved long necks so they could feed on treetops is backwards. The way it works is; when food got scarce, longer necked giraffes enjoyed the advantage of access to food short-necked giraffes did not, they were more successful with reproduction because they were better fed, with food from treetops, they made more long-neck babies that survived than did their short-neck cohorts. Over time, DNA for short-neck giraffes was culled out of the gene pool and all that were left were long-necks. Short-necks didn’t stop breeding initially, they just couldn’t get their offspring to breeding age. It’s all about making babies that survive and make more babies. There is no long range plan of evolution that keeps us pointed in the right direction. Doc Brown in “Back To The Future” was right, the future has not been written yet, nobody is in control. When the longest necks if all long-neck-giraffes out compete the regular long-necks, then original long-necks DNA gets culled just like short-necks before them and giraffes get even taller. When long necks become a disadvantage and they lose out in the maternity ward-reproduction derby, the characteristic that gave them the edge earlier will disappear from the gene pool. It’s like driving in reverse, seeing only where you’ve been. As long as that serves you well, you think you know where you are going. When the wind shifts, whoever is best suited for the new normal, they will replace the old, outdated version, life will take on a new direction, things change and generations later it will all seem normal, even predetermined. When brute strength comes back as the dominant survival trait, intelligence could be culled out just like short-neck giraffes were.
So I’m wondering, that wonderful wake up in my own bed; does it have a purpose or is it just a random side effect that makes me feel good? They, People, have researched it and it seems we do have a fail-safe function in the brain that makes us less relaxed and more on guard when sleeping in a strange place, which does dilute the quality of our sleep. But it only seems to last for a short period, a night or two. When the feel or the smell or the sounds; when I sense my own personal niche I’m like a baby with his pacifier. It’s not that I didn’t sleep well in Texas or Louisiana, I did but I’m still asking the same question; what is it about waking up in your own bed? In the meantime, I’ll sleep a little better, wake up with a little more grace and gratitude, a little more forgiving. It doesn’t mean I’ll keep that civilized edge throughout the day but it’s a good start. Then I’ll be off on another road trip and we’ll do it all over again; Déjà Vu.
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