As a creative night owl whose mind works best after midnight, my sleep schedule has been one of the hardest things to control over the years. It’s impossible to fall asleep quickly. People who can doze off in a matter of seconds truly amaze me. What is it that they’re doing?
Short of drugs (I’d rather not become dependent), I’ve tried everything from counting backwards to late-night yoga to ambient nature sounds (which kind of works). But nothing works consistently and my mind is always in overdrive.
I’ve accepted that I may be an insomniac, and there’s some comfort in the fact that I’m not alone. This week The New Yorker did a three-part series on sleep that spoke to my soul: “Why Can’t We Fall Asleep”; “The Work We Do While We Sleep”; and “The Walking Dead.” According to the first article in the series: “Thirty-one per cent of us sleep fewer than six hours a night, and sixty-nine per cent report insufficient sleep… We are, as a population, sleeping less now than we ever have.”
The one thing that helps me ease into a peaceful slumber the most is chill music. It must be scientifically proven that it’s easier to fall asleep to the sound of soft tunes in the background. Here’s a playlist for nights when you can’t sleep, which is basically every night. IMPT: If you’re a person who doesn’t sleep alone, do your S.O. a favor and throw on some headphones as this rocks you to sleep. Listen here via Spotify.
1. Sade, “Your Love Is King”
The saddest thing about my self-diagnosed sleep problem is that it’s not even like I’m doing anything productive (unless it’s one of my creative-spurt nights). I’m usually laying in bed, scrolling through Twitter or biding my time with Netflix.
Preferably, I start off with songs that have a slight kick while I’m still awake, and gradually take the chill level down. Smooth jazz is like a sleep aid in itself, so the opening sax notes on “Your Love Is King” immediately put me in a mellower mode. Actually, a straight Sade session alone will do a lot of good for your sleepy soul.
2. Outkast, “Prototype”
This is my hands-down favorite Andre 3000 solo record, a postcoital serenade that could double as a sweet lullaby. While Three Stacks in tenderly crooning, “I think I’m in love again,” I’m thinking about my pillow. Maybe I’m lovingly caressing it.
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