It was 4AM. Something had woken me. Further sleep eluded me.
Outside, Australian Magpies sang their angular night song. Those black and white birds; those day and night birds: they’ll be tired in the morning, I thought.
My mind was restless. My mind moved across the surface of the earth looking for trouble. My mind swooped down on innocent victims: how easy other people’s lives are, I thought; how simple their problems.
Outside, the wind sighed in agreement. Eee-sss-eee, it said.
My problems are real problems, I thought; my problems are not trivial; my problems are insurmountable.
For some time, an hour perhaps, I tossed and turned and thought about my insurmountable problems. The more I thought about my problems the more restless I became.
Outside, night was turning to day. A kookaburra – that early riser – interrupted my cycle of thoughts with his unsympathetic laugh.
A new thought entered my mind: insurmountable problems start wars.
I am at war, I realised; I am at war with the problems I can’t make peace with.
Outside, wind moved through trees making music learned from sea and sand. And, as I listened, my problems dissolved into the music and floated away.