Skip to main content

ASMR The New Way to Fall Asleep

The word is ASMR

Autonomous sensory meridian response

Lick, lick, paw over nose. Repeat until nose is clean

More licking, 

paw behind ear, 

repeat until ears are pristine.

Lick, lick, pink rasping tongue across every inch of fur, 

Lick, lick nibble and chew

and purr 

purr 

purr

I'm sinking into the gentle rhythm of the licking and purring, eyes closed as Njinsky, commonly known as Jinx, stretches out each back leg, nibbling and licking along the entire length of one leg, then the other, until he's satisfied that each little whisper of fluff has been scrubbed clean with his raspy little pink tongue.

I read somewhere that the tongue of a lion is as rough as sandpaper. A lion could lick the skin off a human, if it wanted to did you know that? I imagine just eating you would work just as well, for the lion I mean.

As for my little miniature lions, well, technically they are domestic tigers because they're stripy, well, orange AND stripy so I think of them as miniature tigers, they don't need to lick anything more challenging than dust off their coats. I am amazed that their little feet are often so black from playing in the sand that I wonder how their stomachs must feel after all the swallowing of it, but apparently the enzymes in the stomachs of cats are different to other creatures. They can handle a whole rotting carcass and not die from it! This is why leopards drag their prey up a tree and leave it there for a bit before they eat it. Not my two tigers. Their pellets remain untouched the day after if I don't refresh their bowls. Truth. It's not that I actually go out and catch their prey, so maybe the fact that the pellets have been technically "dead" for a long time means something, although I'm not sure what it means. Their bowls have to be washed once a day or Jinx throws up. I've reminded him a few times that he was rescued from a drain where he ate scraps with other feral cats, but he seems to have forgotten that part of his life.

Where was I? Ah yes, ASMR 

Now that I know it's a thing, because I thought it was just me, I've discovered there's an entire sub-culture of ASMR out there that I never knew about. And how did I find out about it? Believe it or not, I went looking for hair dressing videos one evening for whatever reason which evades me now, and discovered there are people called ASMR practitioners! Yup, they make videos that you can watch to help you unwind and relax and some of them are quite addictive. Take Maria The Gentle Whisperer, who has thousands of followers and a very high profile in the genre of ASMR. She is fascinating and her skill as an ASMRtist (yup, that's a word now) has made her a very very rich woman.

Personally, I love Maria's work. I find I can play one of her videos if I'm struggling to fall asleep and in no time, I'm relaxed and drifting off, much the same as many people find listening to a purring cat or white noise or soft rain. 

It's super weird watching one of her videos during the day for some reason and it might not appeal to everyone but if you want to try some of it out, here's a link below which might work for you, or not. Or you could just listen to your fur baby grooming and purring 

You have been warned though, do not try and watch these videos in the cold light of day. They make no sense if you are not an insomniac 


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X8Ney22MLpk&t=253s

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gf_MqDBBMPI&t=1566s


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Nighttime Solitude

  Nighttime Solitude A lone peafowl pines plaintively across the darkened land Perhaps to call a mate or warn of passing danger But, I, a stranger do not understand For there are stranger sounds here where the darkened blossoms fall  A whispered footfall of a bushbuck shy, Nearby an owl hoo hoos and Who knows why for I a stranger to this night song of the frogs that sing And silent flight of night bird on the wing  I am a stranger to this safety in the dark  I blow the embers of the fire I made to keep the spark To fan the flame beneath the last log’s coal to burn more brightly For tomorrow I return to home and  Noisy cars and sirens nightly And to sorrow But for now I’ll sit a little longer by this tiny hearth The embers bright Competing only with Moon’s dappled light upon the appled earth And remember all the things I loved and love  put away the sorrow and the sadness for tonight  And ponder in the solitude that  Nighttime isn’t dark It’s just ...
Post a Comment
Read more
  The Sapling So long we waited  And the time is here  At last A southern wind has blown  The sapling from the vast and distant shore And has returned it full and grown  Home to its root once more The soil rejoices as it feels the quiver of his tread The soil where once he fed Which bled when long ago the little seed took flight And had to fight to grow in foreign land And learn to understand another way But for today  The sapling will drink thirstily and long  And for today he’ll grow Where he belongs 
Post a Comment
Read more

The Apple Cart

The Apple Cart  We were the offspring of the Volksie generation The Nestum cherubs of the Baby Boom Nylon, terelyne, lurex and spandex  All mixed in with a trip to the moon In our DNA the early rumblings  Of human division we did not understand But soon we learnt the language of survival Was written in the palms Of our sticky little hands So off we marched with our Crayola rifles While Dorothy Fisher got a brand new heart We coloured in pictures of the man on the moon And took a Giant Leap onto the apple cart Great big apples. Fresh and juicy More than enough for and more to spare We ate and ate until our bellies ached And still there were apples enough to share Which was quite fun until somebody said: “Hey! These rules aren’t right. Something’s wrong” So, some of the kids were allowed up on the cart While some other kids had to trundle along Behind the apple cart picking up the apple cores Thrown down by the kids...
5 comments
Read more