I saw an article the other day on the five top reasons why people are sleepless. I was intrigued by the question and wondered what strange psychological factors might be lurking in the alleyways of the mind, keeping us from that fragile ideal – a good night's sleep. And so I turned open the article to see. But I was shocked to see the answers. The number two reasons for sleep deprivation were said to be sleep apnea and restless leg syndrome. Restless leg syndrome?
It has been my observation that without meaningful work to engage in day by day, a person retains a certain restless energy they can't shake off. I thought instantly of the ancient proverb, “The sleep of a laborer is sweet.” Now it is important here to make a clear distinction. Working, according to my thoughts, is not the same as laboring. We all work, some grudgingly, some willingly. But laboring suggests something more to my mind than working does. When I think of working, I think of being busy about a task, of getting a job done. But when I think of laboring, I think of doing a job with both heart and strength – putting the best of me into a job to make it something great.
When a person doesn't have something into which they can pour not only their time and effort, but also their heart, then slowly the restless energy builds within them, their body and mind knowing themselves capable of far more than what is being demanded of them, but unable to perform to their fullest because the heart is not involved. We have all felt this at certain times and seasons in life.
Conversely, when a person is able to pour themselves into meaningful work, there comes a whispering, deep sense of wellbeing about the world in which they live – the world is a bigger, a brighter place. When their head is laid to rest each night, they're met with a welcoming stillness of mind that soothes them away to the midnight watches. They feel subtly connected to that grand illusive scheme intertwining all of humankind, knowing that life is something precious and rare, understanding the words of Walt Whitman: “the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.”
Though we cannot often put it into words, the human spirit longs to pour itself fully into its tasks – heart, mind, and strength. It longs to feel potential in the world, knowing that possibilities are endless for those of a persistent, hopeful nature. When we don't have that, when we feel small and untested, the body responds in kind with restless tension. I am a laborer. I have found work both meaningful and diverse. And sleep is sweet.
Benji