My dusty alarm clock doesn’t get much use these days. No longer do I rise at 4 a.m. to the pulsating screams of the working life. Sure, there are the occasional early appointments, but for the most part, life has settled considerably since I retired at the end of 2020.

If only my brain understood. Yes, that brain, the one that still plays at night, thinking and planning all the wonderful stuff we will create and do tomorrow if only we could sleep.

Especially for creative types, sleep is barely on the radar. If we are smart, we attend to our meal plans and exercise programs during the day, but we forget about the importance of sleep. Yet, science emphasizes sleep as a primary tool in recharging our body and mind. All one needs to have is a few sleepless nights to understand the importance of sleep. Who among us hasn’t experienced a sleep-deprived day where movement is sluggish and the mind cannot focus? It is hard to be creative in a state of exhaustion.

Some strategies do help. Note that the clock is turned facing away from the dial. My brain does not need to know what time it is. Knowing the time would only send my brain into panic mode, reeving up the creative gears to meet the demands of a perceived time crunch.

“We have all day tomorrow,” I tell my brain.

“But we will forget all of this great nighttime inspiration,” the brain insists.

Out comes the notepad where I jot down a few thoughts.

“Happy,” I ask.

My brain is unimpressed.

In many ways, my brain is no different from a two-year-old toddler. I have had to set ground rules to train my brain for sleep. These rules are written indelibly where my brain can ‘see’ them. There will be a wind-down period at night, stopping creative activities at least an hour before bedtime. Quiet activities, such as reading or listening to audiobooks, shall be employed as part of the wind-down period. Intrusive thoughts will be briefly acknowledged only by a quick jot of the pen. There shall be no stimulants, such as caffeine late in the evening. Bedtime, with few exceptions, shall occur at the same time every night. For obvious reasons, fluids shall be limited prior to bedtime. Finally, a misbehaved brain is subject to a time-out period, often involving a breathing exercise or meditation that relaxes my body but bores my brain.

“You won’t be consistent,” my brain says.

“Probably not,” I admit. Since retirement, structure has not been my forte, but I am learning.

“Gotcha,” my brain snickers.

“Just shut up,” I say, “and go to bed.”