awake

A friend commented recently that she thinks only a small percentage of people are living life awake. This may be on purpose or not. But I think it's true. I've been thinking about it ever since.

My patient tonight was sleepy when I opened the door to her room. I talked softly; telling her what I was going to do. She moved slightly as I uncovered her a little. When I was finished recording her vital signs and drawing some labs, I lifted her arm and covered her up again with the heavy white blankets. As I did, she stirred again; the kind of stirring where I realized she had completely drifted back to sleep in the few minutes it took me to complete my simple tasks. After being covered, I could see she was comfortable again. Wasn't about to wake up. Sound asleep. No longer knew I was standing there. I turned off the lights and closed the door.

And I thought again about this idea of living awake. Even when things are going on all around us, as they were for my patient- it doesn't necessarily mean we wake up. Or want to wake up. It's so much easier to sleep, to numb away the hard things, let the uncomfortable things pass by without dealing with them. Or even being aware of them. We get good at this- the act of forgetting, not noticing, proceeding forward, absent in some way. We don't mind being naive or apathetic. Sometimes, when too many things threaten to take over, I think about how I wish I could just go to sleep until it's over.

But I want to appreciate living awake. I want to be intentionally present in all the details. Even if it's painful. Or uncomfortable without heavy blankets to hide under. I don't want to be numb or absent from any part of my life.