It's funny, the things we remember. This photo is of me, and my smiling friend, at age five. I don't remember this, at all, but it's a safe bet, that I was jealous of her skates. Mine look like double blades, with brown straps that buckled over my boots. Maybe mine, were the height of fashion that year. I'll go with that.
Anyway, that's not my story today, but it is an example. The last several nights, I've had the need to count sheep. I don't count sheep. My mind wanders, because it's so incredibly boring. A wandering mind isn't conducive to sleep, so now what?
Memories...I count memories, as far back as I can remember. I have one memory from my third year of life, and a total of 31 more, from my fourth and fifth. Some of these memories aren't much more than a fleeting glance, while others can take me back. It's easy for me to know the memories are from these years, as we lived in that particular state, only those years of my life.
I didn't have to dig deep for this...my few memories came pouring back. What piques my interest more, is the thought, "Why these memories?" What's significant in those fleeting moments, compared to every other moment? A spoonful of cold cod liver oil from the refrigerator, was not what I would have chosen to remember.... but there it was. I do, though, relish the memories of the salesman with the wooden leg, and the Little Bo Peep wallpaper, in my smiling friend's bedroom.
These memories are all so random and scattered, with no discernible rhyme or reason, as to why they're still with me. What's that about? I so recommend this for sleep...it worked, for me. Go as far back as your memories will take you, and count moments of your life, rather than those elusive sheep.
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