When Sleep Doesn't Come

I have been blessed with a rather unique ability to sleep pretty much anywhere at any time. I can fall asleep when it's light as well as when it's dark. I can fall asleep - and stay asleep - amidst pretty much any level of noise and confusion. I can even fall asleep the night before deer season opens. I am happily snoozing away while my hunting buddies stare toward the ceiling in the dark; unable to sleep due to the anticipation of the coming hunt.

My son Matthew appears to have gotten a smaller helping of the same ability. Our hunting party of four headed out to the farm for a working weekend in August to clear any trees and brush that have fallen across our trails. Unbeknownst to us, the saloon about 1/4 mile away was hosting a massive festival that weekend. There were thousands of campers/bikers camped on the grounds behind the saloon with a large music stage pointing in the general direction of the barn where we slept. The music, if you could call the horrid entertainment they had booked music, blared at us until shortly after Midnight. Mike and Scott lay awake until the show finally ended. I was asleep within moments of climbing into my sleeping bag. It was reported that Matthew was asleep shortly after. It was also reported that Matthew inherited my gift for snoring, but that's not really relevant to this story.

I suppose I have come by this ability naturally, also, as Dad somehow managed to sleep through a tornado that destroyed part of our home's roof.

Being able to sleep any time any where is a gift; and one I don't take lightly. Nothing makes this more apparent than the rare occasions when sleep doesn't come. It is virtually always something gnawing at my mind that keeps me awake in those instances; a problem I am trying to solve or a plan I am trying to put together. It bothers me that, on those nights, I seem to be unable to "turn my brain off" and fall asleep. The harder I try to work at something that otherwise happens so naturally, the worse it becomes. After a while, frustration sets in and it begins a vicious cycle of futilely trying to sleep while growing more frustrated with each passing minute at my inability to do so.

Sometimes I seem to be able to trick my brain into thinking about some other mundane task; like soldering thousands of Christmas Tree Blocks when designing and installing sound systems, or driving through Illinois with its long, straight, flat stretches of highway. Occasionally even that doesn't work and I must resort to heading downstairs to read or watch television until my brain is finally overcome by exhaustion, thereby allowing me to finally fall into a restful slumber.

It is on nights like those that I am reminded once again how blessed I am that it is so rare to have nights when sleep doesn't come...