I have been sleeping a lot for the past few days. My days are long and heavy, just like everyone else on this overworked, overrun planet. I wake up at 5am, do some yoga, some blogging, some bathroom duties, and some meditation before or after breakfast. I get to work at 8am, after an hour on the TTC, and I work almost straight through until 430pm, with nary a break for lunch or anything else. I get back home at 0530pm, cook, eat, and by the time 730-8pm rolls around, I’m dead.
I have learned the value of hard-work from my parents, who worked their bums off to get us to where we are right now. We come from humble beginnings in India, but my parents did not settle for a life in the back of the line. They pushed themselves to the front, and now I am able to enjoy all the amenities of living in a developed country like Canada. But even though I love Toronto to death, it is a fast-paced city, getting faster every day. We have to keep up, or fall behind. Most of us will choose to keep up at the expense of our health, our relationships and our life.
Falling asleep at 8pm, I still have put in a solid 15 hour day, but guilt isn’t far from my bedside. I feel guilty for taking time for myself and falling asleep when my body asks me to. I feel guilty for taking care of my needs. I feel guilty for not pushing myself harder and staying up a few more hours, working, doing yoga, or other random things. But for the past few days, when I wake up in the morning after a full 9 hours of sleep, I feel rested and relaxed. My mind and body are calm and healthy. I feel better in general about myself and my life.
The calm of sleeping enough pervades the rest of my life, ensuring I do not have to caffeinate myself in order to stay awake through the day. This shows me the power of a full night’s rest in my own life, and implores me to continue with the practice. I shouldn’t feel guilty for taking care of myself, but it will be a while before I can truly say that I do not.