Sleepless in the Mountains

I’m very defensive of my sleep. Too often I wake to my alarm blaring, seeing double in tired stupor, after working late into the night. I can be downright crabby if unslept, and at my worst, I can take my sleep-frustration out on the people closest to me — the people I want to care for the most. If I am lucky enough to share a bed with my partner, but unlucky enough to have to wake up early, I sometimes spoil the intimate luxury of sleeping next to someone I love dearly. At the same time, many of my most cherished memories happen under lack of sleep. At the same time, many of my most cherished memories happen under lack of sleep. Core memories of childhood sleepovers, trying to stay awake through the night, or lying in bed giddy with anticipation for Christmas morning, a family vacation or the first day of school. Not once did I let my lack of sleep limit my enjoyment. On the contrary, at times the sheen of sleeplessness adds to the glistening of life, when the world is beautiful and wild and seems to turn on passion alone.

Core memories of childhood sleepovers, trying to stay awake through the night, or lying in bed giddy with anticipation for Christmas morning, a family vacation or the first day of school.

This is the energy I’m bringing to my hiking trip tomorrow — one that my partner and I have planned to commemorate our three-year anniversary. Like many hikes, we plan to leave early in the morning. Considering the time of night in which I’m writing this, I’ve given up all hope of a good night's rest. In the morning, I’ll roll out of bed, wipe the dust from my eyes and embark on a good day's journey. You only get a three-year anniversary together once, and I’m determined—excited to live tomorrow fully. Sleep be damned.