How my imagination puts me to sleep

I'm not saying "how to fall asleep fast," because the phrase "how to do anything fast" highlights our never-ending drive for better, faster, and it is the same drive that gets in the way of our ability to relax, unwind, and fall asleep in the first place. I'm also not saying this will definitely work if you struggle with severe insomnia. This is coming from someone who has struggled with insomnia and excessive worrying almost her entire life, with genes that lean toward sleep problems too.

But last night was one of those nights. The day had been so full of input, stimuli, and impressions that my brain simply would not shut up. Falling asleep didn't even sound appealing. (If you are an adult, maybe you recognize this.) Falling asleep means waking up, and waking up means all the responsibilities start tugging at me again.

That's when I turned to my imagination, the way I often do. I really believe in the power of our imagination. Almost everything good in this life, material or not, came from someone's imagination first. I use mine every time I sit down to paint. And last night, I used it to lead myself toward sleep.

I once read something about falling asleep (I can't remember where, or who wrote it) that everything that makes you feel snuggly, comforted, and safe, like a child, is good to do before bedtime. I've always remembered that.

So I closed my eyes. Properly, not forcing them shut, like that alone could get the sleep to come. A conscious, real close, resting them and shutting out visual stimuli.

Then I asked myself, gently: How do you feel? Tone is really important here. When I do this, I try to use the tone of the kindest person I know, someone who also shows a lot of interest in me. I mumbled a few words in my head. Last night I said: my head is so full of thoughts, I can't keep up. I feel discouraged and tired.

And then a good question is: What do you need to feel better? Or, what do you want to experience, to become truly relaxed?

This question alone can put me to sleep sometimes, isn't that weird? I think it's because I feel so comforted by the idea that I can give myself anything I want, or need, in my imagination. If I want to imagine a house by a moonlit ocean, and a big, soft bed in a comforting room, sheer curtains blowing gently in the wind, with the reassuring, steady sound of waves in the background… I can. If I want to imagine myself sleeping on a soft moss in an old, peaceful forest, I can. If I need to meet up with a wise friend, who gives me a hug and tells me everything is going to be alright, in a way I truly believe it, I can have that. What I do during the day is important, too, because the more pleasant, sensory moments I collect in the day, the more I have to borrow from at night.

It doesn't matter that it is "only" in my imagination. For my brain, it isn't very different from the real thing. The comfort reaches me anyway.

It isn't always easy, though. But I got better at it. I used to think I wasn't very good at imagination. Whatever I picture always stays vague, blurred at the edges, and I get distracted easily. But I've stopped worrying about that. In my experience your imagination doesn't need to be sharp to work. One clear detail is enough to hold onto.

If you want to try this tonight, you don't need any of it to look like mine. Close your eyes, and ask yourself how you feel, and what you need, in the kindest tone possible. Showing yourself kindness will do half the work. If you have trouble coming up with imaginary experiences, borrow mine: the sea, the moss, the friend who hugs you. And if you have trouble imagining, and your vision changes easily just like mine… I can assure you, you’re doing perfectly fine. Dreams are meant to be soft and blurry.

I hope you have a good night.