REsistance is futile
This year I turn 49, and statistically I'll evolve into a Popechu when I hit 50. For most of my life, the night and my creativity were two sides of the coin—me being the coin. They weren’t habits. They were identity. I prided myself on working through the night, sleeping five hours and arriving on time ready to work at full power. Decades of that life have finally caught up to me. I’m tired. Resisting change is making it worse.
I kept asking myself—should I have to change? Why should I not just do what comes naturally? As a father, partner and creative, the night time is the right time to do creative work. It's the one time of the day when no one is looking for me—my family asleep, clients offline. It's just me and my subconscious, playing games and creating worlds on digital canvases. It had become something to look forward to at the end of the day, a sanctuary in which I’m free to do as I please, with no responsibility to anyone but myself.
That’s how I justified it. It was important to me that past 10pm was MY TIME. It's the only time that I could be creative. Deserved it. Needed it. Earned it. Peace of mind, built on a lie.
I wasn’t providing a sanctuary. I was hiding from the responsibility of claiming time during the day to fulfill my needs. At times, we confuse selflessness with virtue, but martyring time helps no one. Especially if you’re too depleted to show up. And it has worn me down.
When I was younger I could maintain my energy a lot better than I can now. My family always recognizes me as being present… but tired. I love the first “present” part. That “tired” part? Nah, B. I don’t like how it feels to be tired all the time, hovering just above burnout, getting things done, and/or pushing myself up to or past my limits. It’s exhausting.
I protect my family and my art but forget myself in that equation. That late-night window I thought I carved out for me? I was avoiding boundaries, not building them.
So, Pope…now what?
That’s a good question. For the last year, my answer was resistance while ignoring fatigue. That got me nowhere. I refused to see the signs in front of me. Then I picked up Atomic Habits by James Clear. It reminded me that in order to solve a problem you have to accept you have one. This book was the catalyst that finally pushed me to take action. There’s a chapter on spotting triggers. I began to spot my own. I noticed that I start projects or watch shows on purpose. I get engaged on social. I chase ideas when I should be resting. Even when I’m tired I stay up because “It’s my time!’
My lack of structured time for myself is the real problem. It’s a resting problem wrapped in a boundary falafel; it’s strong at first but everything spills out of the sides. Since I don’t claim time during the day, I take what’s left during the night only to pay the price in the morning. A creative fatigue paradox.
Batman’s darkness came from grief. Mine came from avoiding accountability disguised as dedication. I’m not staking my claim or defending my on time. I believe if I can do those two things, the narrative will shift and I’ll have the time to achieve my goals and get more rest.
James Clear states that the easiest way to change starts with identity. You have to be the change you want to see. (I think he stole that from Ghandi.) I’ve always seen myself as a night owl, someone who only thrives when the world is at rest. I am finally ready to join the rest of the world in rest while claiming my time during the day.
Damn. I think I’m a morning person now.
