The nights were calm. They were dark, but they were serene. As my four-legged furry friend Anu Boo slept at my heels, I read, made myself more depressed by spending a lot of time on social media, and chewed the cud of the past. Since I quit my job, my sleep-pattern plummeted further. I went to bed at 5:30 AM and woke up at 11 AM.
Without any fanfare, an epiphany dawned on me last month — I was not going to abuse my body. I was going to sleep at 11 PM and wake up when my body was ready.
A month later…
At 5:30 AM today, a dream fades off. I don’t remember the dream; I wake up with no anxiety. My heartbeat is quiet, reflecting the silence of my room. I am not grumpy because I don’t fight with the remnants of a painful dream. I plant a kiss on Anu Boo’s forehead, utter a prayer, and begin my day.
Now, I look back at all those times when I crashed in the wee hours. That person seems different. That’s not me. The person who left the bed without any qualms this morning is me. Can this little sapling of discipline become more rooted and grow into an enormous tree? I do not know. But I hope.