That’s the Black Dog of Death coming to visit Yukon and Bumble, sleeping on the big bed, being kept awake by Bumble’s snoring.  

We sleep and recharge in the bedroom–it’s a long period of vulnerability, where our guard is down.  We are open for any attack, naked to any sudden thing that could change–and yet we have to be vulnerable somewhere.  We have to rest. We have to stop and get sleep.

I lock the door to my apartment, and I close the door to my room. I can’t have my room door open while I’m sleeping. I’m always afraid I will be able to feel the presence of someone standing in that door, looking at me.  Last night, when the heater came on in the apartment, it opened the door of the room (the latch doesn’t always catch) and I said, “No, no, no,” and got up and shut the door.

I used to be afraid of the dark when I was a kid. Many many nights I spent under the covers pressing down on them to stop any monster from getting in until, lacking oxygen, I gave up and pulled back the covers and, because of how cool and refreshing it felt coming out from under those airless covers, I fell asleep right away–allowing myself to be vulnerable.   

Some of us are more comfortable being vulnerable in less safe situations— camping (where we zip up the tent tight against bugs and bears….), or sleeping outside with no tent! (Are you THINKING??). Some people fall asleep in public places feeling safe because there are so many people they have a better chance of not being attacked.  Some people have to fall asleep outside or in public places because they have no home, no bed, no safety, and they are vulnerable every single time.

Some of us feel like we have a private place in our bedrooms, safe from the judgement of others, able to be vulnerable in a way we could never be with other people.  We can open up and be ourselves.  For many, it takes a LOT to invite someone into that vulnerability–a lot of strength and a lot of time–to know that we are safe with them. On the other hand, sometimes it takes only a second to realize when we are not safe with someone–revealing ourselves or revealing our vulnerable sides or even being physically safe with them.  

We are very blessed when we find someone who can handle our snoring worst, our naked, vulnerable self, our fears, insecurities, and our imperfections–and we are blessed with so much trust when someone invites us into that place where they are vulnerable too. A good relationship is constant vulnerability with constant safety.  I’ve heard it’s a sign of feeling safe when dogs and cats sleep in our presence… they feel safe with us.  When a person can voluntarily sleep in your presence, what an amazing trust they’ve given you, handing you their vulnerability and closing their eyes.