Peace isn’t distant. It’s just rarely seen. It begins with knowing where to look for it.
I observe the world closely, yet what I have always wished for is to attend to my sleeping self with all my senses. Weird and haunting as it may sound, it’s been with me since I was a child.
I remember, I knew exactly what I wanted. I didn’t want to escape sleep; I wanted to witness it. I wanted to sit beside myself and look at myself resting, the way my body settles, the way my breathing softens when I’m no longer there to notice it. And I still think it’s a beautiful thought. Maybe we all hold on to something from childhood that never fully lets go.
Today, the desire hasn’t left me. I watch children sleep and feel the same pull, in the soft rise and fall of their chest, in the weightless quiet of their bodies. It almost hurts, seeing them so completely at rest, knowing I can’t watch myself like that. I can only picture what it would be like, and for a brief moment, I almost feel the quiet that has always fascinated me since childhood.
Before anyone worries, I do sleep, lol. But the version of me I wish I could watch is always somewhere just beyond my sight.