There’s something really unsettling to me about staying up all night. Or more specifically, staying up all night and overthinking. I find myself punishing myself for doing so, laden with feelings of guilt for being so restless and undisciplined.
I’ve always wished to be a morning person. The type that gets up in the morning, makes a smoothie out of some weird concoction of green vegetables and goes for a morning run. Do these people exist? I’d like to know.
Truth is, the times I’ve stayed awake all night have been the most enlightening moments of all.
I think, to physically stay awake there must be something very crucial occupying your thoughts. If you don’t know exactly what that is, that’s fine. To me, it’s a general feeling of unresolved-ness (I’m aware that’s not a word – I think that kind of highlights how obscure this feeling is).
I think, at some point in your adolescence/early adulthood you will experience this. I find that the only way to overcome this feeling is to look for inspiration through literature and film. Anything from poems to films to songs.
These sleepless nights have led me to some of my most treasured authors, artists, and musicians.
I’ve always been the kind of person that has to emotionally connect with a piece of art in order to fully understand it/enjoy it. Some films or genres of music for example completely disinterest me simply because I cannot relate to it in any kind of way.
There are only certain times in your life when such self-exploration is possible. For me, it’s been a re-occurrence since the age of about 14. Usually in the summer months, between school, between University. Discovering new art, rekindling old favourites.
In between responsibilities and commitments and life, allow yourself these nights to get to know yourself again. You never know when you might get another chance.