general. You can read along; the transcription is in the description of this episode. The idiomatic expressions are in italics. Try to get the meaning from the context and then look them up to see if you were right. If you like it, share it, but more importantly, continue the conversation. 
Hello. Welcome, I’m Renée Valentina and this is Musing Interruptus. Willing are the tired to sleep: today, Thoughts From An Insomniac’s Bed.
Languages reflect culture, values, and mindset. Getting to sleep in Spanish is conciliar el sueño as if it were a negotiation between the person and sleep. That is what it feels like sometimes. And there is an absence, not only of the elusive and desired sleep. There is something else missing. On the other hand, there is an excess of thoughts that become feelings that heavily run through our veins all the while we wish they became air. Outside of our skin. On a good night, the negotiation may bear fruits for all on a bad night, the negotiation is stalled and the same fruit is left to rot on the table, out of reach but in plain sight. 
Time flies when you can’t get to sleep, it races your thoughts. Guess who wins? You would think it is a marathon, however, you are more likely to drop dead from sleep deprivation. It is not healthy at all. That adds its own bit of stress to the mix. To avoid insomnia, I follow a ritual that includes teeth, face, lotion, and pajamas.  So, when this fails, I try to keep in mind the remedies I think have worked. 
Try some relaxing tea, rub lavender oil on your wrists and the bottoms of your feet… that always seems to work. When it doesn’t, you might resort to cannabis, turning on the  TV, opening a book, playing relaxing music, and kundalini breathing. You might even fall into the trap of rounding up the usual suspects. Role call!! Death?! Are you here? I’m always present teacher! Unrequited love? Absent, of course. A conversation you had that day. Chunks, words, responses. On a loop. PRESENT! To-Do List! WE ARE ALL HERE! They chime in together but disorganized, like nails across a chalkboard. 
So I face the thoughts! Joust with them!! Quick! Change my strategy! I submit to them. Let them rush over my body, through my soul. Let go. Imagine them evaporating. Accept there is nothing to be done at this moment. Coexist. My goodness, this sounds like the right way to get it done. Healthy even. That makes me think highly of myself. I could create a sleeping course. Module 1. Stage Sleep. Module 2. Don’t look at the clock. Module 3. Sleep Remedies. Module 4. Fake it till you make it. That is the height of hubris. I recant. 
I may need to take a sleeping course. Perhaps I should be at a sleep clinic. What am I doing? I grab my phone and look up the closest sleep clinic. Closed, of course. Then I most certainly look at the clock. I’m losing the race. I’m detached from sleep and this kind of tired is generic. It isn’t working. I need to send it back. Wouldn’t that be great? This tired is faulty! I’m sending it back and expect a full refund! Good Day SIR! I SAID GOOD DAY! 
Some nights can be more productive than the best mornings. That isn’t how it feels. The bitter taste of defeat cannot be compensated by anything the following morning. It doesn’t feel like a new day. It is just the continuation of the last day. A hell unlike few. Walking around with sludge between my temples.
My favorite type of insomnia is the kind that wakes you up when you think you have won the battle. Wednesday the 6th of December at 3:30 am awakened by a very loud thought. I could have made it through the night. I know the battle is lost, as soon as I open my eyes because some incoherent word or name escaped my mouth, at that very moment. I know that is the end of sleep for me and that I had better enjoy the next couple of hours in bed. To early to get up. Some thoughts are so loud they wake you. There is no antidote to that, not at that hour. Continue reading

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