Since a few months now, I have this terrible habit of falling asleep on the couch.
Half the time, the oversize cushions hurt my neck and the gaps between the seat cushions mean I get a bit of a kink in my hip.
I wake up too early and I sometimes haven’t brushed my teeth, because I fell asleep right after my after-dinner tea.
I might get a bit of acid reflux, because I tend to fall asleep too soon after eating.
But you see, that’s all right.
I’m in a hurry to lay back after dinner with my favorite wool throw wrapped around me because I like sleeping on the couch.
I fall asleep without having to go through the process of bedtime routines.
I don’t have to turn off the switch.
I just keep on thinking, the mind is free to turn off consciousness of its own accord, and awaken it when ready again.
Now this might seem strange, as many people might say they like not thinking.
But for me, not thinking means losing my grip on the world. It’s how I function. Even when I’m feeling the greatest joy, I think to myself, isn’t this wonderful? Senses, understanding and hormones exploding in a bouquet of twinkling neuronal fireworks! How peculiar and beautiful! And the joy is only deeper and more meaningful.
When I’m angry or sad, thinking lets me grasp why I feel this way and accept it, and perhaps try to make it better if I can. And if I stop thinking properly, it can get worse.
But back to the couch.
I also like sleeping on the couch for the way I wake up.
The sun rises on that side of the house. So I wake up to the rays of the sun, which is beautiful.
It’s also the street side of the house, and I live in the city, but in a wonderfully quiet neighborhood where people start the noises of the day discreetly and respectfully, and this stirring of life that’s mingled with the chirping of birds at dawn is a contact with life and my fellow humans that I love to make.
And so I start the day cheerfully, and thinking, and before my mind can truly focus, while the discomfort of the couch pushes me up on my feet, I come up with my best writing ideas. Insights. Growth.
So, bedtime routines. Who needs them? I love sleeping on the couch. It’s peaceful. It’s my own. There is no altar of routine that is the bed, just me and my thoughts. We get along.