Insomnia strikes again. Sleep doesn’t often come easily to me and tonight is one of those nights. I haven’t been tossing and turning, that’s not my style. I simply lay still, eyes closed and occasionally letting out an irritated sigh. The trick is to try and remain calm and not register the frustration that is bubbling under the surface. Once you do that, once you release the creature, you’re doomed to fail.
Of course, this is easier said than done. After all, the curse of the insomniac is the fact that once the lights are out, the eyes are closed and you are plunged into darkness and silence, you are at the mercy of your mind. Nine times out of ten it is this treacherous organ that shakes my cradle and keeps me from peaceful slumber. For the most part, any notion of control over my own thoughts seems laughable in the darkness. This is the playground which allows my mind to run riot like a demented bully. It is difficult to ignore. One needs a distraction.
A few years ago, I stumbled upon a very old technique for enhancing the ability to recall facts. It dates back thousands of years and is referred to as the ‘Memory Palace’. It is a system whereby one creates a construct within one’s mind, of any size and design, preferably something familiar, and fills this construct with memorable tableau to which one can attach facts, figures or whatever you need to remember. The associations enable you to recall whatever is attached to each tableau you pass as you wander the halls of your palace.
Now, to be honest with you, I’ve never used this technique to remember anything. In fact, I adopted it with quite the opposite task in mind. I use it to forget. Over the years I have built this thing in my mind, adding halls and rooms and corridors and filling them with various objects that hold some meaning to me. It really is the greatest of distractions when all you have is the silence and your thoughts. It requires focus to navigate the palace, maintaining its layout consistently with each visit, and there have been many times when I have drifted to sleep within its confines, all other thoughts forgotten. It is my method for imposing order on the chaos.
In my mind, there are always things worth forgetting.
I don’t let anyone into the palace. The very nature and purpose of it, for me at least, requires that it be almost vacuum sealed against any intrusion from the outside world. Once the outside world leaks into it, it ceases to be the sanctuary I need it to be. It becomes as chaotic and swamp infested as the mind I’m trying to escape from.
However, I recently discovered that someone was in there. I was wandering around, concentrating on the details and making sure my mind didn’t drift, when I found myself looking at a very familiar face in these unfamiliar surroundings. It was someone I know, in fact it was someone I love, but I was surprised to find them moving idly around this particular part of my mind completely unbidden. It’s a first.
We blinked at each other.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hi,” came the casual reply, coupled with that uniquely shaped smile I fell in love with.
“What are you doing here?”
“You invited me.”
“I did?”
“Well, you must have done.”
I thought about that for a moment. It did kind of make sense. Still, this was making me very uneasy. I thought I knew everything that went on here. How did they manage to get in without me even knowing it?
And why was the unease seemingly fading the more I looked at them in the context of this place; the more I realised that this person, whom I had already let into my heart, was simply accepting an invitation I’d made before we’d even met?
“It’s nice here.”
I smiled, despite myself. “You like it?”
“Sure. It’s comfortable.”
“Think you could be happy here?”
“Yes. It’s very you.”
I looked around. There was certainly no disputing that. It was very me indeed. I turned back to my welcome guest. “Now you’re here, sweetheart, it’s even more me than it already was.”
I was surprised to find how sincerely I meant that.
And so the Memory Palace has a new addition. I guess the place needed brightening a little. After all, it was designed by me.
I spent a long time seeking refuge in this place, alone. I had distraction; I had some semblance of peace. But I was missing something. Something vital. Not anymore. Now I have the most secure and eternal sanctuary of all. Now I have love. I've even begun sleeping a little better.
In my mind, there are sometimes things worth remembering.
