06-The gift of the Caveman Part 3

The Gifts of the Caveman Part Three: How to sleep like a Caveman.

Sleep. Possibly my favorite subject. Note: nothing in this post addresses insomniacs or other sleep disorders. When I learned about a genetic, deadly sleep disorder, I witnessed the horror of sleep deprivation. But a lesson, a key, presented itself. Genes create chemistry; chemistry must play a fundamental roll in sleep. I understand that when it comes to falling asleep and sleeping well, personal responsibility is limited which means it's even more important to do everything we can to sleep as well as possible and not blame ourselves when we fall short. And it is because adequate sleep is so hard to find that I have left this subject for last. Only the most fortunate among us are capable of sleeping like a caveman.

Sleeping like a caveman is very different from sleeping like modern man: there are no sirens, no light-bulbs, no alarm clocks, no swing-shifts, no cable, no tablets. Cavemen slept very differently than us.   Sleep requires a few things: a comfortable lack of heat, a soft place to lie, a stable auditory environment, little or no light, adherence to a circadian rhythm induced by ritual, and a body ready to sleep.  

I use the word body because the mind has nothing to do with sleep. In fact, the mind is the enemy of sleep. It's the noise. Even the simple presence of mind precludes sleep. One must let go of mind and become body in order to sleep. But sometimes that is impossible because body will not let go of mind. In other words, when a body does not have the right chemistry, it cannot fall asleep. If the heart beats too fast, if the skeleton cannot find a position of rest, if the breath is labored, if the mind speaks in an endless stream, even the most tired of bodies will not find sleep. Sleep is when the physical becomes the mental. I have a theory about being asleep and being awake. Awake: your body listens to you. Asleep: you listen to your body.

Sleep in a cool, dark place with limited, repetitive sounds after a nice, long day of fulfilling effort. Research is showing that it is not the lack of sleep that kills, but the interruption of sleep. Limit interruptions that wake you from sleep like alarm clocks. Snooze buttons are killers. It is better to wake an hour early than have ten extra minutes. Even better, wake before your alarm (there are a slue of new apps that monitor your sleep and help you gently do this). Or you could do what I do, give yourself a ridiculous amount of time to sleep.

But does this mean we should sleep all night long? Not if you want to sleep like a caveman. Who goes to sleep when the sun actually sets? The caveman. Not the modern man. The modern man has advanced, indoor lightning. The sunsets on the modern man at a whim, a flick of the switch.

In winter, people went to bed early and woke late. In summer, they went to bed late and rose early. The modern light-bulb reconfigured sleep as it destroyed the seasonal oscillation and made second sleep nearly impossible. Cavemen went to bed with the sun and woke with the sun. In winter, that is a long time for continuous sleep. Until a century and a half ago, humans often experienced second sleep– the concept of segmented sleep. You go to sleep, wake up, mull about, and go back to sleep any number of times. From sex to chores, from fumbling about to sparking genius, this space is foreign to modern man. Why? It requires undefinable time. I can only imagine the feats of genius mankind will reach once we rediscover segmented sleep and slow down.

Why do we dream? Because our body has something to say. Let us listen. Let us find this conversation meaningful. Why? Because sleep heals the body and rewires the brain. Without it, we die a horrible death. With it? Well, let me ask this: what's the quickest way to Carnegie Hall? Practice, practice? No. Practice, sleep.

These three keys of the caveman (how to move, eat and sleep) have been lost for most of us. We suffer in this day because we have lost our caveman ways. When we learn to walk, eat, and sleep more like a caveman, we will be nicer to each other. Why? Simple: healthy people are less mean because healthy people are in less pain.

A quick note on my occasional insomnia: when I cannot sleep, I think happy thoughts. It sounds corny, but it helps. Someone once told me if you lay in bed with calm thoughts for three hours, you get the equivalent of two hours sleep. I'm not sure about the math, but I know it is better than tossing and turning.