It is in vain that you rise up early
and go late to rest,
eating the bread of anxious toil;
for he gives sleep to his beloved.
At least one-third of my life should be given to sleep.
A bit more is better. Any less causes me trouble.
What a wonderfully strange gift. We essentially enter a different dimension.
How often sleep finds solutions when all else has failed.
Unwilled, without inhibition, exploring as it likes our sleeping self confronts our fears, hopes, conflicts, passions... and uncanny, even crazy possibilities.
Another translation: He provides to his beloved during sleep.
Psalm 127
No comments:
Post a Comment