I haven't slept well this week.


I had a ball dancing last night with my roommates.  They didn't so much, but I did.


I woke up Monday night between 1:00 and 1:30 am panicked that I'd overslept.  These waking periods repeated themselves every half hour until my alarm finally beep-beep-beeped at 4:45 am and I excused myself from under my covers.


On Tuesday night I overcompensated and each time I awoke (mimicking the previous night's pattern), I calmed myself, "No, not yet."  Even when my alarm beeped in my ear I quieted it and thought, "No, not yet."  Oops!  Rush, rush, rush to deliver all my Star Tribunes not-too-late. Then Rush-rush-rush to school.  On time, whew.


Wednesday and Thursday nights I repeated the sleep-wake-sleep pattern but I roused each morning with my alarm and put my feet into my mildly chilly slippers, pattered down the stairs into my running shoes and out the door on time. 


I love dancing.  I climbed in bed euphoric last night, endorphins pumping through my bloodstream.  This is my Sabbath day.  Despite a late night (ahem, early morning), I awoke by 7 am after an uninterrupted night of sleep, eager to hop out of bed and cook and bake up a storm.  Today is my Sabbath day; I wait patiently for inspiration to come to me, to feel the Spirit moving within and without me and to join in - to follow its lead.  At the end of the day, I hope to go to bed with similar contentedness, to know that I've danced, smiling and laughing all the while; to have given my number freely to that which the upcoming week may hold.  I anticipate the day I hear the Spirit calling me into a new adventure.


Wait, wait, go.