Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Epiphany #27: Snort Fort

Your mom snores.  But let's not fight about it.  I haven't heard her; I just know.

You snore, too.  Your precious child snores. Your lover snores.  Everybody snores.  Even your dog.

You snore on your back.  You snore on your side.  You snore (more) if you drink.  You snore if you don't.  No matter how ladylike or urbane you may be during the day, at night you are an unbridled Appaloosa galloping on the sand of Snore Lagoon.

The great myth of sleeping is the notion that some of us are snorers and some of us are not.  The only ones who are not snorers are those of us who are awake listening to someone else(s) snore.  They are the lucky ones, deep in dream and rhythm, while we lie in torment.

And if you aren't a snorer now, you will be sometime soon.  It is the natural night state of man.  And Woman.  Sometimes especially woman.

Last weekend, on a "guy trip" I was in a room with two other men.  In my moments of awareness, I listened to their duet--the deep bassoon coming from the far bed, the terrier snores of the man beside me.  At times, one soloed when the other came to the surface.  In the morning, when I told them about, one described in return how the other two of us were doing the same thing.

Truth is, we all snored.

There are exceptions, of course:

1.  Those who have medical devices and nose strips to help them sleep.
2. Those who live in perfectly-hydrated rain forest-like environs where the air is too moist to allow for friction in the nasal passages and throat.
3.  Those light sleepers who never get deep enough to really get that log-sawing sleep breathing going.

I don't really mind snoring much, except when I do.  Maybe the kind of apnea snoring is a bit troubling, when you wonder if the person is going to take another breath, but most times, if I'm not under some immense stress, I don't mind listening to the rhythm for awhile.  I can always roll over or block it with blankets if I have to.

What I do mind is that we have been made to feel, by advertising I'd say, that snoring is a source of shame, that a reflex action when we are completely unconscious is something we should be able to control or plan for or be considerate about.  Me, I say it's a two-way street.  Maybe snoring isn't the problem.  Maybe it's what ridiculously light sleepers some of us are.  That some of us can't settle our souls to go to the land down under cannot be healthy.

So let's quit pretending that there are couples out there who spend their nights in quiet, non-disturbing R.E.M. sleep, no snorts or submarine noises or little farts escaping from either of them.  Sleep is a recovery from a tiring day.  There's going to be some noise when we crawl through the wreckage.

1 comment:

troutking said...

When we were little, my brothers and I used to claim that we heard our parents in their bedroom snoring Yankee Doodle Dandy. As a definite snorer, I'm glad to hear I'm in the majority