What Keeps Us Up at Night

The world is a large and wondrous place. And in these uncertain times, it seems scary as well. Between wonder and fear there is much to contemplate. To think about. To worry over. Our issues seem unfathomably immense, something for the greatest minds to dwell on. For the average person, it can drive you crazy. Or to drink. Or to sleepless nights. The enormity of it all.

And then, there are the frogs.

I have a waking dream. I usually have it early in my sleep cycle, when I try to think of good things to lull me into the night. It is a bit of a fever dream, in that my room, despite the air conditioning, is still too hot. The blanket is too heavy, the air vent makes too much noise, the windows are not sound proof. If anything, the windows have brought the outside in. I can hear the water of the small fountain, the crickets, the cicadas, the frogs. Especially the frogs.

In this hazy half-sleep dream, the setting seems familiar, like a “60 Minutes” interview. The guest seems familiar too; a knowledgeable, credible, empathetic individual who people would naturally turn to for thoughtful critiques and visionary insights on how to solve our ISSUES. Someone tall enough to slouch. Maybe it’s Bill Gates. A Leslie Stahl type host leans slightly forward and asks The Most Important Question Known to Man.

“So, what keeps you up at night?”

The guest does not assume the pose of a person in thought – no tented hands to engender trust. He doesn’t wax elegantly on medicine, economics or miracles. The Gates imitator instead leans forward as well – eye to eye with Leslie.

“Damn squirrels. And the frogs! The incessant croaking. Who the hell can sleep with that going on?” And he launches into a detailed description of the mind boggling, ear-splitting song of the 17 year cicada. In the studio, people start to whisper. They swear they can hear them. And the frogs.

Leslie, appalled but a consummate professional hesitates slightly, then pushes on over the growing background chaos, “Surely these are little things?”

“To you!” Snorts fake Gates. ” Do you know what time I get up in the morning? Did you know that shortening your average sleep time by even one hour takes years off you life? Don’t you have a Fitbit? Have you seen my sleep score?!”

The dream dissolves as the frog chants grow louder, like two bad high school bands trying to outdo the other. The cicadas hit their crescendo and Leslie walks out of the studio swearing under her breath, while Fake Gates tries to cram AirPods in his ears. There is the fluttering of bats overhead.

And I wake up. The frog by the fountain is so loud he could be sitting on my pillow. I swat it just to be certain and wake my husband. My sleep score drops 10 points.

There are a lot of things to worry about these days. Liquidity, deficits, and viral load are no doubt robbing some of our most creative minds of the sleep they need. My nights can be an endless recitation of worst case scenarios as I watch the DOW on a roller coaster ride from hell. My God – did my husband just sneeze? Where the hell is the Lysol?!

But I am only human. And fear can be both exhausting and dehumanizing. Somewhere in the over riding fear of the last 6 months we seem to have lost our sense of humanity. And in these most uncertain of times humanity is what we crave. From our fellow citizens, our leaders. From those we turn to for hope. Often that flash of humanity is seen in efforts of kindness, generosity, comfort. But it can also be seen when just admitting we are mere mortals, with faults and fears both great and small.

When we admit that frogs are what keeps us up at night. And we turn back into humans once more.