I love jet lag.
I’m writing this at 4.30 in the morning; I’ve already been up and hour and a half. The house has a deep quiet like no other time of day. The silence and darkness are empty in a way you rarely seen except in the countryside. I feel myself luxuriating in the vast expanse of morning that lies before me. A sunrise in a few hours, perhaps a walk to appreciate it. Writing, and more writing. Maybe a break to read, or think about reorganizing the kitchen. I’m not sure why evenings don’t offer this same luxury. Weekday evenings are hopeless of course; you are battered down by the days events and willing to hide in the TV set or a book with a glass of wine. Weekend evenings seem stuffed full of people to see and fete. But mornings….
My tragedy is afternoons are quite useless for me. I try to stuff all my meetings into the afternoon; not a spark of the creative instinct inhabits my body from lunch to 4 p.m. I’m alert, conscious (except the 3 p.m. sleepies) but uncreative. Personally I would love a European work style, with a long lunch to be followed by working a bit later. 9 to 5 could not be more arbitrary.
It occurs to me that if we all attend to and map our body’s creative and productive cycles, we can then schedule our daily events to coincide to the time in which we are best suited to accomplish them. Useless from 11-1? Eat and nap! Useless from 2-3? Work out! Creative spark at 7 each night? Why not have an early light dinner and work after? Or a late one at 9, if you think you can catch a second wave late at night. Most articulate at 10 am? Schedule meetings for then. Inarticulate at 9? (as I am—the fingers are awake, but the mouth seems to lag behind about two hours.) Avoid meetings like the plague, or plan to spend a lot of time nodding sagely. To be self-aware is to have an opportunity to be effective. Now if I can just figure out how to convince corporate America that I need a two hour nap each afternoon….