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I’m a Wild and Untamed Thing

This is me linking up, as one of my favorite things to do, with Finish The Sentence Friday. This week's topic is

I wake up in my bed, and it’s like it has swallowed me whole. I can feel myself sinking – spine in mattress.

My arms are thrown above my head – straight up like I’m doing a cheer. I can even feel my hands wiggle like jazz hands as I’m coming back from the breathy grip of a dream. I’m always just below my pillow with my neck at a slight angle. I’m not yet old enough, or I’m still too limber, to feel any soreness from the stiff neck even five minutes past wake up. I can tell it’s coming, though, like a hot breath on my neck – that same hot breath that takes me from jazz hands dreams into the bright white gasping morning. I wake up every day in this cushy, beautiful, joint-purchased marital bed and I wish I were more.

my bed

Did you know that underneath the sheets and underneath the dreams and underneath the top of my head, there’s long been white hair growing. Not even gray. It’s been there for 15 years and will no doubt turn me into the long white-haired woman. I don’t feel old. I feel 17 and 27 and 37 and 77. Sometimes my chest feels heavy like something is resting solidly on it.

There’s a feeling of amnesia every morning – waking up unsettled, almost unsure, nearly breathless, and tangled in sleep and sheets and dreams of mystery people and touch and joy and fear and pain, and it’s way more powerful than the feelings you feel during the day. It has to be. Your waking self has to suppress them, and numb them, and push them back between the sheets, at least a little, because how else would you survive your day? You’d be screaming with laughter and pain, and you’d be pawing and clawing the walls and standing on your head and upside down. You’d be a force. You are a force.

This is me linking up, as one of my favorite things to do, with Finish The Sentence Friday. This week's topic is

We’re all wild and untamed things, though. We wake up perfect and tormented and achy breaky and fragile and strong and hopeless and hopeful. We look up at our ceilings and notice paint trims and watermarks and future dreams. It’s all there.

We might say a silent prayer. We might say loud affirmations.

Then, feet on the floor. Head in the game.

my bed

I go to bed cold and I wake up hot, as if heat spreads from deep dreams and underlying themes.

my bed

This is me linking up, as one of my favorite things to do, with Finish The Sentence Friday. This week’s topic is “My Bed..” (5 minute free writing) And there’s still time to write yours. Come link up with your spin: HERE.

My bed. What would you say about yours?

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  1. First – That first photo is just beautiful (not that the rest are not, but the bubbles, the rainbow and all of the colors – just beautiful). Stiff neck, sore shoulders….. “Raises hand”. Beautiful piece.

  2. What an excellent FTSF post… like back when riding in a car with friends (and no adults) was still a new thing. Fun, and at the same time, it reminds of things I’ve forgotten that I’ve forgotten (since last waking up).


  3. I don’t know what the deal is going to bed cold and waking up hot. It’s not even hot flash related, it happens to all three of us! Love your SOC and the picture of you Astro!

  4. I love that first pic! My bed is my special place, I don’t work on it, it is my sleeping oasis. It’s a beautiful canopy that my mom bought for me 13 years ago and it’s just as beautiful as the day I saw it. You can tell I have a special love for my bed LOL

  5. I love this post! I especially identify with waking up hot and my head always below my pillow. And that ending – I constantly feel hopeless and hopeful. I’m not sure who I’d be without that weird dichotomy going on inside of me. I loved linking up with you on FTSF.

  6. I would say I don’t spend enough time in my bed. Before I had kids I lived for Friday nights. Not because I would go out on Friday nights. I would always go to bed super early on Fridays. It was like a treat for making it through the work week. I would come home, eat dinner, and then get in the bed and go to sleep. I need to start doing this again. It always felt good to wake up rested on Saturday morning. 😊

  7. You write so beautifully. I love this “I go to bed cold and I wake up hot, as if heat spreads from deep dreams and underlying themes.” Wow! Beautiful photographs too.

  8. Amazing post, Tamara! Sure my dreams are a wild adventure, but the day my old water bed went “the blob” on me and almost crushed me was a real wild experience. Had a good laugh over that once I got the thing off of me!

  9. Only you could write a story like this one Tamara. I’m going to bed tonight with this FTSF and all of its glorious humor and emotion on my mind, and l hope l experience all of the feelings that you share with us here. One day you’ll write a blog in your wild and untamed sleep. I can’t wait to read that one!

  10. My bed always has too many people and animals in it and never enough room for me! Don’t you just love parenting and puppying 🙂

    That first picture is pretty magically beautiful!

  11. I’ve wondered about what makes a white hair (or a patch of white hairs) start growing in a particular place, and yet the others hairs remain their true color. Strange, I think.

    I love the photos, especially the one of you and your dog, and the one with your son and his dad.

  12. Oh my goodness I love that photo of the pets and your boys! Darn those white hairs. My bed is always wonderful to climb into when I am tired. But once I am awake, it is hard for me to stay in it.

  13. THIS. This is where your gift flies so high and hits me HARD. Oh my gosh, Tamara! Your word painting, your transparent and intimate revelations, your beautiful details literally suck me in so deep and I”m struck with awe…

    YOU are such a force of rich art. You ARE rich art. I gotta share this gem.

  14. Hi Tamara, I love that top photo all colour and fun. It takes me half the day to iron out the cricks in my neck these days. I do love that feeling of coming around from a dream, and in that half sleep state not being sure what is real and what isn’t.


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