WHY WATERMELONS ARE BLUE
Ever since I was a child, I’ve had a difficult time falling asleep and staying asleep. Over the past several years, I’ve gotten considerably better at both through learning various dos and don’ts. On an average night, though, it still takes me as long as 90 minutes to fall asleep—and that’s usually not because I drank coffee too late in the day or didn’t exercise enough.
My mind seems to have a mind of its own, which definitely does not want to go to sleep—ever. When it is meant to be shutting down for the night, it instead revs up and begins doing something else entirely, from planning to philosophizing.
As I lie there, knowing that I can’t make myself think about nothing, I try to steer my thoughts toward things that are pleasant and not stressful—ideally, things that have as little as possible to do with real life. Eventually my busy thoughts give way to semibusy thoughts, which give way to entertaining thoughts. Then at last comes the moment I cherish every night, the moment of the completely nonsensical thought.
The internal dialogue will go something like this: Tomorrow I need to reply to Christy first thing. … You’re not supposed to be planning your to-do list now. … That lecture I listened to the other day was fascinating. … No, that’s not going to work. Too interesting. … So, this weekend I’m going out to dinner with a friend. … And that’s why watermelons are blue. I smile, grateful to know that in a few moments I will be sleeping peacefully.
It’s a case of something that seems “wrong” or nonsensical paving the way for something good. In the case of my insomnia, the good—the sleep—doesn’t come in spite of the bizarre, random thoughts, but rather the random heralds the harmonious.
That makes me wonder if there are other ways and times when similar scenarios play out, perhaps without my even noticing the pattern.
We all hear the occasional story of the bizarre turned beautiful on a grand scale—someone meeting the love of their life while they were stuck at an airport due to a weather