I was thinking about something just after I woke up this morning. What if there was an inoculation for grief?
What if, just like for diseases, you could get a yearly vaccine that would immunize you from the pain of grief?
Would you get it?
Or do you think that grief is a necessary component of life and the stages are healthy for growth and acceptance?
I think of the oddest things when I wake up. It might be something like I just indicated.
But often I wake up with words filling my head. Words that aren’t full sentences. Just a jumble of words.
Sometimes I really want to drift back to sleep, but the words are intrusive.
At times it is like that Lucy and Ethel episode at the chocolate factory where they can’t keep up with the conveyor belt. Remember that one?
It’s like the words are coming through a funnel. And sometimes the presence holding the funnel gets impatient with the speed of the funneling, so they began to press it down from the top to make it go faster.
Then the words flash through my mind so rapidly I can hardly keep up with them. Where one word ends and the other begins.
Adjectives, adverbs. All kinds of words.
It is tiring sometimes. I see them, I feel them. And there’s no way I can go back to sleep.
I wonder if somehow this got started when I was a child in elementary school. I owned a beloved dictionary and wrote down words from it to entertain myself.
We didn’t have comics or magazines or books in our home. Just the Bible, some of those encyclopedias you could get at the grocery store, and the dictionary I asked for.
All the other reading material I borrowed from the library.
Could I have filled my mind with so many words that they’re just stuck there in the recesses of my memory?
Sometimes I feel like I’m in a Hitchcock film.
Perhaps the film would be “The Birds”, where I am in a confined space and birds are coming at me from all directions, pecking at me relentlessly.
Of course it isn’t painful, or even all that unpleasant. I just can’t control the flow and speed and when it happens.
Maybe the answer to this quandary is simply that I write words every day.
What kinds of thoughts enter your mind in the morning just after you wake up?