Change. The great inevitable.
It can’t always be controlled or forced. Sometimes it just happens on its own timing.
For nearly 24 years, I’ve “been a night owl.” And the time for the owl’s death has come.
My night-orientation began in grade 12. I’d arranged for no/few classes in the morning so could sleep in, while working evenings delivering pizza and spinning records in the basement. Little did I know those ‘unusual’ sleep habits would carry on so long.
Granted, there were period which I veered at least a bit more towards “normality.” A couple seasons living in Banff after high school, there were surely mornings I managed to get up, enticed by the blissful delight of fresh powder. There were probably some classes in the first year of university (before dropping out) that couldn’t all be pushed later in the day. That year I lived with a girlfriend and her daughter in Phoenix, I acclimated to their schedule. And there were some mornings during the year I was surfing in Bali that got up pre-sunrise for the best waves. But otherwise, night owl.
It fit the DJ lifestyle - whether playing until 2am my first couple years in Vancouver or weddings in Bali. And the habit was firmly established, even when not. I loved it. There’s just something beautiful about the peace & quiet in the middle of the night, while everyone else sleeps - not just the literal silence, but the psychic/energetic quietude as well. (It didn’t make sense until finally getting confirmed ADHD last year why such silence might’ve been so dearly appreciated, though I’d been aware of how discordant days often went with the overstimulation of all their usual bustle, light, and intensity of activity in the world.) Hearing/reading that creatives often gravitated towards the night as their prime hours, I simply embraced & rolled with it, owning the title and life that came with it.
When I moved back to the mountains at the end of 2020, I began seeing where it didn’t work so well for me. It really did seem a shame that I had the best snowboarding in Canada literally out my door, but couldn’t manage to pull myself out early enough for fresh tracks in the morning, justifying it with, “well, there’s still lots of good snow left, so whatever.” It’s not that I didn’t try to adjust my sleep times - attempts just did not fucking work. Trying to go to bed early just consistently resulted in lying in bed awake & frustrated for hours, and trying to force myself up early without enough sleep just resulted in the days feeling like hell. Whatcha gonna do. I had a great season nonetheless; and when leaving and returning this March for the last 6 weeks of the season, same thing. There was no forcing against the grain of the “night owl” schedule.
When I first saw the doc to discuss treatment for the ADHD - something I’m still shocked to have humbled myself to, given the immense anti-pharma bias I held for decades - he had strongly emphasized: normalizing sleep habits would be vital. As much as the rebel in me wanted to take his counsel with a grain of salt, I couldn’t deny the merit to what he spoke. Surprisingly, there was a brief period for a couple months where I was able to get up at least a bit earlier and found days starting at 10am instead of noon or 1pm to be kinda cool… but as soon as snowboarding was over, so was that stretch of earlier rising. It couldn’t be fought. Yet, having found out that I was seriously spoiled that first snow season in Revelstoke, with it being extra quiet due to CONVID, and the powder was tracking out much faster now, there was a lingering intention of somehow adjusting sleep hours before the start of next season. The thought of missing out on dozens of primo powder days stung deeply to the soul; but as to how I’d manage the seemingly-impossible endeavor of breaking the night owl pattern and returning to “normal…” no clue.
Then, came Virgo season.
And with nothing more than that seed of vague intention (or perhaps hope), without even really trying or putting much effort, it started happening.
At first, my body started giving teasers. Waking far earlier than normal… not fully,but with just enough consistently to suggest or hint that it was possible. I was still getting the sense to go back to sleep to get a full rest, but it was as though I was being primed or groomed for the change.
Similarly, on the other end, I felt an intuitive draw to make ever-so-slight alterations to my evening habits. The unusual issues with the eyes I’ve been experiencing for a couple years seemed to finally communicating their message more clearly, and I started reducing screentime accordingly in the time leading up to bed. Awareness of what I was eating how long before bed expanded, and how it was affecting my ability to fall asleep and the quality - and I slowly reduced the frequency of eating later, rather naturally. Sensitivity was increasing to how drastically an overstimulated nervous system was fucking sleep up - and there was a gradual prioritization of reducing stimulation and getting it wound down, happing so subtly it’s barely possible to perceive even in hindsight. Though sure enough, I wasn’t lying in bed for hours and finally sleeping at 4 or 5 am anymore - but rather actually getting into bed by 1am, and asleep by 2, if not sooner.
Before I knew it, waking around 9am was a thing. Then 8 am. And still, with teasers of earlier - as though whispering, “see… 6:30am by the time snowboarding starts isn’t unrealistic. You’re more than halfway there.”
Then came nights I was in bed before midnight. Ones where I wasn’t lying awake for hours with nervous system amped up, but out cold within 10-15 minutes. It was happening. Even if not consistently, change was underway. And though the bedtimes haven’t been as steady, the waking up has. And even when getting only 6 or 7 hours sleep - or as little as 4 or 5 the odd night - there’s no more, “let’s go back to bed for more rest.” Nope. An extra half hour until 8:30 or 9am, maybe. But body’s in a new routine.
And I’ve honestly been loving it.
It might be super obvious and common sense to pretty much everyone, but I’ve been fascinated observing how subtly yet drastically the ripple effects of this simple recalibration have been - what a difference such a (at least closer to) “normal” sleep schedule makes. How such a fundamental pillar of an essential health routine helps establish a foundational framework from which time & energy can be so much more effectively managed. ”Duh.” But for real.
And again: it couldn’t be forced.
I dunno why the timing occurred as it did. But hot damn, the appreciation it did.
I can’t attribute it to Virgo season alone - although there’s surely no better of the 12 energies conducive to such refinements of details of routines. Nor do I have any idea what all other confluence of factors played into the shift. Nor can I probably pin all the shifts that’ve been occuring solely on the sleep. But man, the change.
The longer I’ve been in Revelstoke this time, the more grounded I’ve been feeling. The unsettled, restlessness, and compulsive itch that had me habitually looking to the future and obsessing over about ‘where to go next,’ dissipating. The desire to chase excitement & adventure in foreign lands, fading. I’m content here.For the first time… probably since the last I was living here… there are daily moments of awe with the appreciation felt for simply being here, alive, blessed with all I have been.
And music has been flowing. After years of struggle, conflict, resistance, and banging my head against walls, I’ve been attuning to the creative & emotional waves - ‘finding a groove’ with how to weave in & out of sessions, maximizing the enjoyment of the process. And the results… omg. My focus for the last month has been on re-mixing & remastering a bunch of old tracks - and while I partly fear the creation phase of starting new stuff when it comes again, as that’s often where the most frustration has resulted - they hyperfocus waves I’ve been surfing with the audio engineer hat on… holy jeezus, talk about Divine, blissful ecstasy.
For two decades, I had this intuitive orientation towards getting my money right and in a prime homebase, at which point I could truly, fully throw myself into my art & craft… and it finally feels I’m actually there. Though I’ve had glimpses of the potential for some of my music and occasional highs as creating it before, the leaps & bounds made in audio engineering skills lately have gotten many of those old tracks to a point of richness, fullness, and potency so vivid & lush; observing that potential come to fruition, ‘my babies’ growing up into their own; the new levels of mastery being unlocked as sticking with it all these years and undertaking the endless processes of self-development - the external results, but an “as within, so without” fractal manifestation of the continual cultivation & refinement of my internal frequency… just wow.
And five years after having invested in the X3 variable resistance band weight training system, though being much more consistent with it the last year, it finally feels as though I’m getting into the swing of things with it, finding a way to fit it into my days that works… consistently. As though I’m finally starting to take it seriously, slow down to ensure it’s getting done right; attuning to the waves of energy and my body’s cycles allowing it to be done harmoniously, rather than forced. And likewise as with music, thoroughly enjoying & appreciating the process. While feeling the results. (Perhaps seeing a bit too, though not overly concerning myself with that.)
And while I’ve overindulged in social media for years, taking in way too much content that probably has not served so well, those habits are changing too. I’ve weened off the doomer black-pill conspiracy stuff, pulling out of the cognitive biases of “truther” communities… which has been huge. I’ve been equally repelled by much of the B.S. in “new age” circles, unplugging from cultural programs that have nothing more to offer. I’m just fucking done with that kinda stuff. Appreciative for the many lessons & wisdom gained through the deep dives, rabbit holes, and esoteric explorations - while acknowledging when enough is enough and it’s time to ground back here into reality and do what I gotta do, leaving the mysteries of the universe that aren’t mine to solve and questions not mine to answer up to ‘God’ to sort out and assign the appropriate people to, with some sense of “faith” and/or trust that things might just actually be working out as they’re supposed to after all.
The hermitude (of my “on the roof” phase as a 6/2 Human Design profile)… definitely a thing… and really does feel it’s finally working.
The mind occasionally judges how restricted/restrictive my routines are - living in this mountain outdoor playground, yet barely ever going out of my usual few routes from A to B. Though after my twenties and early thirties throwing myself full-throttle into life and bouncing around from place to place and venture to venture, it feels like a so dearly-needed respite. From the ego’s perspective, it might seem “boring.” From the soul’s… nourishing A.F.
I love my days not going out at all. I love the isolation, in which to refine my awareness of these energetic waves guiding my focus in shifting habits that aren’t just perpetuating more neurotic scatteredness, but actually, finally - at age 41 - generating a sense of stability, contentment, and satisfaction with the simplicity of these basic functions & duties of being a human in a physical body bound to work constructively in the confines of 24 hours each day. And though the emotional waves always come and go, also an increasing sense of peace in/with the process. (Though I may have needed to eat my words there - launching into the rest of the day after writing all this, only to end up frustrated & angry with friction and lack of flow... those damn waves.)
None of this, which had ever really seemed as easily, consistently accessible while clinging to the identity of the “night owl” and its habits & ways of being.
Maybe I’m finally “growing up.” Ha.
Maybe this is a testament to the process of death & rebirth.
That old sense of identity - the “night owl” - so deeply rooted in my psyche that it couldn’t be fought. Yet as with everything in life, it too had to come to an end and give way to something new & different.
It’s both perplexing & humbling to consider the ways we might still be clinging onto ideas about who we are and what we’re capable of that may be past their expiration date. And how many we might actually have we’re not even aware of.
Blah, blah, blah. Maybe I'm still just 'spiritually bypassing' in a new way, hanging onto different things with logically-justified narratives of "progress," while effectively distracting from working through emotional obstacles to what'd bring yet greater fulfillment - cheerleading some small victories while downplaying the force of habits still perpetuating disempowerment. Cognitive bias never sleeps.
Nonetheless, baby steps.
Or some shit. What do I know. 🤷♂️