Wake Up, Little Snoozy
My name is Dave Von Bieker, and I’m a snoozeaholic.
I love my snooze button with it’s promise of nine more minutes. Nine more minutes of dreamy indecision. Nine more minutes of pre-dawn warmth.
Nine less minutes to read and pray. To plan and write. To control my time before the family wakes up and requires my full attention. Making lunches. Coordinating mittens. Checking homework and filling out field trip forms.
These are nine minutes I want. From Eric Barker to Twyla Tharp, productivity and creativity experts tend to agree that mornings matter. Mornings can be the magic hours of creation. They are for me.
But in my morning fog I mistake the good for the best. Sometimes nine minutes become 18. Or 36. 6:30 turns to 7. 7:30 even. I trade my magic hours for a few foggy moments under the covers. I always regret that trade.
I have a problem.
How can I trick myself into getting out of bed on time?
Sometimes solutions are stupid-simple.
I moved my alarm clock.
I simply moved the clock out of reach. From the nightstand to the dresser. 3 feet. Far enough that now, to silence the distorted drone of dance-pop-radio (an the inane conversation of the DJs), I need to get out of bed.
Sure, I could just get back into bed. Sometimes I do. This morning I did. But even then, once I stand upright something shakes loose in my brain. I become aware, just enough, of the choice I am making if I get back under the covers. I gain a little edge of hope that I can do this.
I can wake up and get on with things. I can conquer the morning.
That fully-conscious belief is all I need.
This works for me because lying down I stay in some sort of stupor that clouds my judgement. Bolting upright hits reset for me somehow and that is enough. It works for me because my wife, lying next to me, values sleep because of her night-shift lifestyle. Even if I could bare the blasting music she could not, so I need to hit that ‘off' button fast.
But this isn’t about a button. This isn’t even about mornings, really.
This is about small changes that make a big difference.
This is about the hope to tackle chronic problems–some far more debilitating than a snooze addiction.
This is about hope. You should not give up on finding a solution to your problem. If something isn’t working for you, change it up. Small changes, repeated over time, lead to big changes.
This is something I’ve learned by working out. Results have come, but so slowly I never notice in the moment. I simply have to trust that small changes, repeated over time, lead to big changes. One day I look backward and realize how far I’ve walked.
Success tomorrow means choices today.
I decide to move my alarm clock before I ever go to sleep. That means thinking one step ahead. Using my nighttime awareness to combat my morning blur.
If tomorrow morning is a challenge, how can you head that off today?
Don’t stop believing. It’s time to wake up.