Twice today I had conversations with people and I commented earlyish in the evening that I was resting in bed and I was told that it was entirely too early to be doing so, given that it is well known (or ought to be) that I am a particularly insomniatic person (not least because I write about my sleeping woes so often). Of course, I first said I was resting in bed about 7PM or so, and it is now midnight as I write this and I am hoping soon to be asleep, and have been resting in bed for quite a while, reading as well as conversing with others. It amuses me that people thought that resting in bed meant that I was soon to go to sleep, since I can spend many hours in bed while being rather productive. It amuses me that some people think of this as unfair, that I can sit in bed while using two laptops and a phone simultaneously, doing work, reading, writing, watching videos, and conversing with others simultaneously. What I call resting and what others imagine as resting is probably not the same thing, it must be admitted.
What is it that leads people to think that resting bed is a preliminary step to sleep when for me resting in bed, even if one is not being particularly restful, is something that can fill most of the hours of the day if I am so inclined (and I am often so inclined)? This is something I find genuinely puzzling. How is it that one can explain one’s sedentary ways to others? A great many people view sitting in a comfortable chair or propping oneself up sitting with pillows as a comfortable cushion in bed as a sign of the lazy life, without a care in the world, and that is not the case for me. While I sit peacefully in bed I am often doing several things at once, or at least several things in sequential order. On the one hand, I am quite busy in terms of mental labor and thinking and writing and related activities, even as I am about the most sedentary person that one can imagine.
This tendency of mine was noticed early on in life. When I was a child, one of the many games of pretend played by my neighbors and I was pretending that we were various heroes of the Marvel universe, long before the recent rash of movies related to these characters existed. Our favorite Marvel heroes were in the X-Men series and to no one’s surprise, I almost always ended up being Professor X, he of the narrow range of physical movement due to his physical handicaps but of great mental power. It is strange to think of the way that my mental power seemed to be the most notable aspect of my character to the people I grew up around, and that this mental power was so often combined with physical feebleness to a degree far more extreme in pretend than was the case in my life as a child. It must be remembered that as a child I was relatively fleet of foot, quite talented in sports like football and baseball and basketball where a lot of running is expected, and it is only in retrospect that the mobility issues of my midlife seem to be told in advance. But still, if Professor X was someone who did not move around much, he was not a lazy person, nor was he someone who slept because he was reclined in his wheelchair. No, if his body was not as active as it could have been, his mind was active, and the same has always been the case with me, and will remain so, God willing, so long as I draw breath.