Dearest Rachel –
Remind me not to do that again, honey. Queuing up a blank screen video of soothing music to fall asleep to is one thing, but ambient noise definitely has its issues. Not only is one dealing with too much light to properly sleep in (even a ‘black’ screen is emitting some light, no matter what it claims, and let’s not forget that the computer itself – I think I’ve complained about how these high-end graphics-intensive machines seem to include bright lights on both the tower and keyboard as a feature), the sound works its way into the mind as it tries to disconnect from the waking world, resulting in some… interesting dreams.
The night’s rest started off promisingly enough, and with a scenario you would have recognized from many a night at home. Although, unlike back then, when the three of us would all be in the same room watching something together (or, more to the point, you and Daniel would be watching some gamer or another with an FM-radio type voice on YouTube while I tuned out and fell asleep), Logan and Daniel were watching something together in the family room while I did likewise in our old bedroom. Even though I was the one calling my own shots in my room, it didn’t take long before my eyes started to glaze over (when I went to inform the boys of my decision to call it a night, I told them “my eyes [were] opening a Krispy Kreme franchise,” much to their amusement). It felt a little too soon to just shut everything off – and I still needed to drown out whatever it was the boys were watching – so I selected a black-screen ambient noise video comprised of rain and thunder sounds to ‘watch’ and hopefully fall asleep to.
In a way, you probably would have considered this a counterintuitive move on my part. I already mentioned that I don’t think of myself as falling asleep well unless the room is pitch black and as near to completely silent as possible, which you could probably confirm. Moreover, your own experience would suggest that the sound of running water might induce one to need the bathroom, thereby precluding one’s ability to fall asleep. The former argument could be offset, however, by the fact that I was already falling asleep in front of a lit and active computer; this video selection only meant I wouldn’t feel compelled to look at the screen as I let myself drift off. And as for the running water, there’s a difference between the sound of rainwater and a running faucet. I know how the sound would have affected you, but it doesn’t work the same for me.
However, while the noise of rainfall is soothing to the point of somnolence (more on that later, in fact), I hadn’t anticipated the effect the thunder would have on me. After all, it wasn’t the sort of cracking, booming sound that a real thunderstorm on top of one emits – that would defeat the whole purpose of the video. No, this was the gentle rumble in the far distance (although without lighting to match it with, it was impossible to determine how distant), clearly not close enough to pose a concern. And even if one were afraid of thunder – in which case, why put the video on in the first place? – there’s the understanding that this was a video, and not real.
That understanding, however, is something contained within my consciousness; my subconscious mind didn’t seem to be able to grasp the fictional nature of the ongoing noise. As I slid into R.E.M. sleep with this soundtrack being piped into my ears, my mind crafted a story incorporating the thunder as the sound of explosions. Do I mean fireworks or cannonades? No, nothing so celebratory; I was taking the fact that we live as close as we do to O’Hare airport, and interpreting the sounds as aircraft blowing up in mid-air and falling out of the sky like leaves in autumn, making another loud crash as they landed.
While it should have been absolutely terrifying, indicative of the war footing we apparently were on with those who were basically recreating September 11th on a massive scale, somehow the only concern was to ensure that we were suitably distant from wherever the planes were coming down; often, oddly enough, in open fields. There was the occasional building (including nearby homes) that were crashed into – bear in mind that passenger planes are pretty large, such that even a field of four square baseball diamonds like the one at the end of my parents’ street wouldn’t necessarily contain a single one. And given their size, there was this tacit understanding that running from one as it fell would be utterly pointless; if one fell near us, that was the end of us, and no amount of running could distance ourselves sufficiently from the blast radius.
But they never came that close, or when they did, its effects were surprisingly minimal. One damaged a house across the street when it fell, but what flames erupted near us could be put out with the water from our garden hose (although I think we were across town at the folks’ house, as opposed to being at home, so it was their garden hose that put it out. I’m not sure we could trust our garden hose to do so much). Maybe it was my mind realizing that I wasn’t in any imminent danger, and therefore couldn’t make even a scenario as terrifying in practice to be anywhere near the fright it should have been.
It probably didn’t help that I kept waking up several times, realizing what the sound really was (or more to the point, what it represented – I probably skipped out on an opportunity to go work out in the morning because my mind told me that it was raining outside, and I didn’t want to go out in that kind of weather, so why not grab a few more winks?), and going back to sleep. I think I actually managed to return to the dream, more than once, in fact, and with the knowledge that it wasn’t anything more than external sound, my mind simply couldn’t convince me that I was truly in imminent peril as planes kept plummeting to earth, far too close for comfort had it been real life.
But while it wasn’t precisely what could be called a lucid dream, it wasn’t the nightmare it should have been. The very effect that created it served to hobble it as well. At the same time, it didn’t make for the best sleep of my life, either, given the content. So I guess that, if I must fall asleep with YouTube on, I should just stick to music… or maybe just rainfall. Thunder just doesn’t get the job done properly.
In any event, now I have to get on with the day, whether fully rested or not. So keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 