Monday, January 30, 2006

Bed Lump

Last night I did not sleep well. I slept the sleep of one missing a bed lump.

When I was a child, and frightened, my Mom used to climb into my bed and just stay there until I fell asleep. She was my bed lump -- the night time companion who comforts by their mere presence as a breathing and friendly body on the other side of the bed. Bed lumps are beings for whom we have affection, and in whose presence we feel safe and trusting. Bed lumps need not express anything, say anything, do anything. Their divine mission is to simply be the warm mound in the blankets near us, the touchstone, that which grounds us merely by assuring us through their regular night-time breathing that they are there and we are not alone.

Generally I enjoy being single, or in my case, divorced. I like the easy sway of days in which I do not have to report my whereabouts. I like the quiet. I even love it. It has been a bit of time that I have been without even a bed lump, which has not caused me an instant of fretting.

But last night as I stretched out in the darkness, my body seemed by memory to curl into "spoon shape", but there was no one there to spoon. Yet all the impulses were there.

How odd it is that our bodies recall company even when our minds are not focused there.

I am not sure what, if anything, I am going to do about this. One cannot invite someone over to be a bed lump. There is all this other "stuff" that goes with it, as the role cannot help but expand into deeper zones. Soon along comes the Venus and Mars stuff.

I may need to get a dog.


Blogger samtzmom said...

A dog sounds like a splendid idea! They love you unconditionally, won't leave their underwear on the bathroom floor, won't snore (for the most part), and will always and forever think you hung the moon. Yep, a furry friend might be just the ticket Mata!

4:31 PM  
Blogger Anne said...

Last week I was visiting friends who have triplets, and because of that particular responsibility have had the help of a nanny or two along the way (the kids are six). As an overnight guest, I slept in what had been the nanny's room, and during the night one of the young'uns crept into my bed and slept there for the rest of the night. Her mom told me later that the kids will often find their way into other beds during the night, and that they seem to know when someone is there with whom they can share those slumbering hours. I felt honored that this child, who had about two minutes with me earlier in the evening to size me up, felt safe enough to climb into that bed, even she associated that safety at first blush with someone else. I was not her lump, but I was there.

And. I have a smallish dog who IS my bed lump. He likes to get under the covers and find the curl of the spoon that I create when I sleep, and takes comfort there against my warmth. I, too, take comfort in him. He's the first dog I've ever had to do this, but I've concluded that it is part of his ministry to me. Perhaps there is a lump out there who is called to offer the same ministry to you. I consider it a blessing.

5:52 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Dogs are very good bed lumps, sometimes much better than the two leged ones.

1:26 PM  

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