written and posted by members of Lancashire Dead Good Poets' Society

Saturday, 4 January 2020

Immobilised

Are we rolling? Yes indeed. Immobilised may be the given theme this week, but happily no lack of traction afflicts the Saturday Blog as it blazes fearlessly into a new decade.

I thought I'd start off by writing about the phenomenon now commonly called 'sleep paralysis'. I don't know if any of you have ever woken up and been momentarily phased by a complete inability to move a muscle. It's happened to me a few times in my life and it can be quite scary.

According to the NHS website, sleep paralysis (an example of parasomnia) is when you cannot move or speak as you are in the process of waking up or falling asleep. This momentary immobilisation occurs because the body is still in sleep mode but the brain is active. The effect can last from a few seconds to some minutes and is often panic-inducing but is in fact quite harmless. It has been linked variously with insomnia, jet lag, narcolepsy, PTSD, hypertension and general anxiety disorder.

Other sources go into somewhat more graphic detail about causes and symptoms. When in sleep mode, our bodies relax and our voluntary muscles are rendered static. This is a mechanism to stop us from injuring ourselves during the dream cycles of REM sleep (effectively preventing individuals from physically acting out their dreams). The phenomenon of sleep paralysis arises if/when the body's transition to or from that REM sleep gets out of synch with the brain, though there is no clear explanation as to why this sometimes happens.

What is known is that during parasomnia episodes the areas of the brain that detect threats are in a heightened state and overly sensitive. Therefore, common to all such events in addition to the sense of being consciously awake but unable to move or speak, there is often a powerful sense of fear and panic. Sleep paralysis episodes are frequently accompanied by hypnagogic experiences, including visual, auditory and sensory hallucinations. These typically fall into three categories - intruder, motor and incubus.

An intruder episode will often feature perceived phenomena such as the sound of doors opening, shuffling footsteps, a shadowy figure or the sense of a threatening presence in the bedroom. My recent ex-wife used to experience this latter sensation quite regularly and would often wake me up screaming her head off once the parasomnia had loosened its grip.

A motor episode (more accurately vestibular-motor) can give one a sense of spinning, falling, flying, floating or undergoing a complete out-of-body experience, a sense of looking down on oneself from above.

Scariest of all is an incubus episode which can manifest itself in any of the following unpleasant ways, sometimes in combination: as a feeling of pressure on the chest, difficulty with breathing, a sense of being smothered, strangled or sexually assaulted by a malevolent being. Quite often the paralysed individual believes he or she is about to die. Such episodes, harmless though they are, can remain haunting memories for years.

Immobilised I - Incubus Sleep Paralysis Reimagined
As I said, I've had a handful of such episodes in my time and they're not nice. The best advice the NHS website can offer is: exercise regularly (but not in the four hours before going to sleep), don't eat, smoke, drink alcohol or caffeine shortly before going to bed and don't sleep on your back. Sorted then!

Taking a random shunt of the theme into a weed-ridden siding, I've long had a fascination for immobilised relics of our mechanical past, especially rusting old aircraft, cars and locomotives. I suppose it's because unlike we more organic creations who don't long outlast the transition from being quick to being dead, old planes and trains once their motors have been shut down for good take a long time to rust and crumble to dust and can look quite poignant - even poetic? - in the process of their heroic degradation. I hope the image below conveys a sense of the beauty of these immobilised mechanical giants. It  relates tangentially to my latest poem and neatly to an audio bonus I've attached for you this week, gentle readers.

Immobilised II - Some Old Engine
Here then, the first Saturday poetry of the dawning decade, fresh from the imaginarium, its title a cheeky paraphrase of Neil Young's Rust Never Sleeps (bless the grumpy old contrarian). I hope you like it...

Dust Never Sleeps
There's a lazy part of me thinks
'let sleeping dust lie'; that by
not over-agitating those motes
but allowing them to softly coat
every domestic surface
like a token powdering of snow,
the air will be somehow freer
of pollutants and cleaner to breathe.

Nonsense, of course.
Not just the tenuous justification;
even the original notion is flawed,
for fugitive dust never sleeps.
It's always in motion,
empowered by the very spinning
and spiralling of the universe.

Too soft to register on the Mohs scale,
this quintessence of hair, lint, skin,
spiders' webs and dreams worn thin
shifts constantly across the boards,
aggregates insidiously under beds
into colonies of dust bunnies,
spumes out of hearths
and car exhaust pipes as soot sprites,
marshalls itself in every corner
where decaying empires crumble
before migrating in plumes
around the earth.

But it doesn't stop there.
Borne upon solar winds
it rides shining on comet tails,
mixes it with the gases of galaxies,
dances along the cosmic highway
to the tune of the Djinn of creation,
truly star dust, on its destined path
to form new worlds over time,
new lands, peoples, homes, hearths,
new lazy domesticities.


Finally, that New Year musical bonus, a YouTube link to what I consider the most utterly brilliant and soulful 'immobilised' song ever committed to vinyl. Click here to listen: Tom Rush - Driving Wheel

Thanks for reading. Shine on, S ;-)

36 comments:

Fabrice Estardy said...

Formidable!

Harry Lennon said...

Fascinating lowdown on sleep paralysis and another brilliant piece of poetry. Well done Steve, 2020 up and running in style.

Nigella D said...

I have dust bunnies! I just didn't know what they were until now, so thanks for that. I love the latest poem :)

Rod Downey said...

Another great blog. I never knew about sleep paralysis. Man, that incubus picture is scary. The Dust poem is tops and as for Tom Rush, what a great sound. All round excellent reading and listening. Keep them coming please.

Carey Jones said...

I've never experienced sleep paralysis thankfully. I did once as a teenager wake up and think I'd gone blind (not what you're thinking!!!) - because I'd got some kind of eye infection and both lids were glued shut with gunk and wouldn't open. That was scary for a moment. Dust Never Sleeps is a cracking effort. Well done.

Peta Lee said...

Brilliant poetry ❤️

Binty said...

Ha ha ha - so this time it was Mohs scale and Djinn that I had to look up. Love the poem. Feeling educated :)

Anonymous said...

Interesting, well written and that Tom Rush track is quite something.

Lizzie Fentiman said...

...not to mention the ash that's everywhere right now from our bushfires and burned out homes!

CI66Y said...

Thanks for the Tom Rush link. I've always been a fan but not listened to him in years. I enjoyed your lowdown on sleep paralysis and of course the latest slab of poetry from the imaginarium: most impressive.

Harald C said...

All we are is Dust in the Wind...
Very true!
Wishing you a happy new year, Steve!

Boz said...

Another boss blog 👍

Deke Hughes said...

Another stimulating read Steve and a fine new poem. By the way, I'm always impressed by the quality of illustrations you use (just never thought to comment before). The incubus one is very graphic and the other looks like the demise of Thomas the Tank Engine :)

LG said...

Parasomnia: scary. Poetry: beautifully turned out. HNY.

Ross Madden said...

Cracking post that. Great poetry and thanks for the intro to Tom Rush.

Tom Shaw said...

Hey man, that's another cool blog. I had no idea about sleep paralysis. Sounds a bit like being bonged on the floor! Your Dust poem rocks. As for the musical mentions, ha ha - Tom doesn't Rush anymore and Neil is no longer Young but the fact they are still both making records and doing gigs in their 70s is an inspiration to us younger guys doncha think?

Rochelle said...

Happy New Year Steve. Thanks for another fascinting blog. I love your dusty flight of fancy.

Romy Lowenthal said...

In German we say wollmäuse - wool mice :)

Max Page said...

Poets!!! There you go, trying to give dust a good name (LOL). Great poem btw. Happy New Year.

Zoe Nikolopoulou said...

We removed a wardrobe recently and found a 'dust snake' lying underneath!

Roger Wakeley said...

Thanks for signing me up to your blogs Steve. This was an interesting read and I like the poem, plus Tom Rush - such a great sound...how has he passed my by all these years? 2020 is looking brighter already.

Diana Maartens said...

Beautiful words.

The Existentialist said...

To dust we shall return...

Miriam Fife said...

I love the poem, very nicely turned 👍

Georgia Steele said...

Happily I've never encountered sleep paralysis, it sounds shocking. I thought your poem was a delightful conceit and I loved the sound of Tom Rush. Thanks for sharing Steve.

Ben Templeton said...

'quintessence of hair, lint, skin/ spiders' webs and dreams worn thin' - brilliant deconstruction that, and a fine poem as a whole :)

Colin Hawkswell said...

Cheers Steve, an informative read as ever and a great poem. It prompted me to do a bit of 'dust bunny' research in the wikisphere where I was amused to learn that the equivalent phrase in translation in various European languages is as follows: dust cats (Italian, Polish and Portuguese), dust kittens (Hungarian), dust rats (Swedish), lodging bunnies (Nowergian), sheep (French), wool dogs (Finnish) and wool mice (German). Thiught I'd share. Keep it up, your blogs are much appreciated, Col.

Anonymous said...

Most entertaining. I love the poem and must say thank you for the introduction to Tom Rush - very good.

Gareth Boyd Haskins said...

I love Dust Never Sleeps for its imagery, use of language and clever circularity. Great poetry. 👍👍👍

Anonymous said...

What a beautiful poem :)

Celia M said...

Thank you Steve. I've experienced that a couple of times when I was younger. I love the Dust poem and the Tom Rush recording.

Stu Hodges said...

No dust clogging up the imaginarium then! LOL :)

Bruce Paley said...

Very good!

Karola Emmanuel said...

I loved the poem. Dust bunnies! ❤️

Kevin Sterling said...

Fascinating info about sleep paralysis and a most imaginative and rather lovely poem. Thanks also for a great Tom Rush bonus - he's new to me.

Jeanie Buckingham said...

Yes, that is sleep paralysis explained brilliantly, it must sound a very strange phenomena to anyone who hasn't experienced it ... But terrifying to those who have ... I didn't find a connection to any life event, always totally unexpected ... once after going to the theatre to see a musical Dr Dolittle in which a sea turtle crawled around the stage, that night something crawled around the bedroom floor getting closer and closer to the bed. But mostly figures ... I trained myself to recognise what was happening and force myself into consciousness. Thanks for sending me the link.