My Bed is My Holy Shrine

Steve - Ann Arbor, Michigan
Entered on September 12, 2007
Age Group: Under 18
Themes: pleasure

If I were to win a million dollars, instead of buying fast Italian cars, a fatty home, and hundreds of thousands of McDonald’s double cheeseburgers, I’d follow in the path of Peter from Office Space and do “absolutely nothing.” Of course, in partaking in the act of doing nothing, I would ultimately have to do…something, but luckily, there are certain daily functions that are categorized as doing essentially nothing—my favorite of which is sleeping. Now the profound thing about sleep is that, yes, it is the closest people get to nothingness in life, that black vacuum of emptiness. But it is also the beginning, the provider…of everything. Yes, I believe in good ole’ fashioned beauty sleep.

I believe in my bed as a servant to my existence. The quality of my sleep is the foremost factor in determining my outlook on the next day. A good night’s rest means I will be a bright, cheery, and optimistic person; a bad one means I will be a tired, short-tempered, and cynical wombat. Thus, my bed and my sleeping arrangements should be suited to give me the best sleep I’ve ever had…every night. That means it should be feathery soft, dimly lit, and sufficiently large.

I believe in sleeping in boxers in summer and winter. Clothes don’t counter the cold in my sleeping shrine—blankets do. If it’s too hot in boxers, an open window or fan is the first option; the other side of the pillow is the second. But wearing a birthday suit just ruins the Chi in my bed.

I believe in meditating to approach my absolute zero. Dreams ruin the sleeping experience because the mind should not be consciously active—it needs the time to recuperate and prepare for the next day. So I take time before I sleep for some personal Kumbaya and hone my mind in on nothingness. A good 15-minute session—complete with chill instrumentals and dark lighting—typically ensures a dreamless sleep, and ample rest for the day ahead.

Before I die, I hope to donate a whole day to pay respects to the process that makes this all possible. While so many people wish that life could function without it, I cherish the recuperative wonders and merciful escape of sleep. On a day-to-day basis, the quality of sleep trumps the mere quantity, but I can just imagine that quality day when quality and quantity join in the holy matrimony of nothingness.