Last night, instead of sleeping, I coughed. After just being sick with the stomach bug two weeks ago, I am especially not thrilled to have the world’s worst cold, and I’ve been grumpy and bedridden since Sunday (I am so sick of hanging out with myself). Despite my exhaustion, I had a revelation during my all-nighter: I finally understand night owls.
At 2, 3, 4 in the morning, everything was dead silent. When I looked outside, there was this incredible glow from the freshly falling snow. I pictured little foxes curled up in their dens, and people sleeping soundly in their beds. I’ve heard of artists who do their best work in the middle of the night, and now I can totally see why — I felt weirdly focused despite feeling like crap. I could have painted a picture or written a chapter of a book. It was an entirely new world to me.
After a few hours of being awake, something neat happened: I transitioned into a sort of meditative state. I think I was just too tired at that point to hold onto my thoughts, so it became easy to watch them pop into my head and then drift away. “This is what meditating is!” I kept thinking. And the sunrise! Such a treat to watch all the colors appear on the horizon.
Needless to say, I am completely pooped today.
Photo by George Shiras for National Geographic.