Published The Advocate, April 1, 2006


DAYLIGHT saving ends this weekend and not before time. We’ve been getting out of bed in darkness for weeks. The sleeping dog cannot figure it out. The dawn chorus of birds starts up as you leave for work. I have been feeling unusually lethargic. My brain thinks it should still be dead to the world when the clock is demanding I get up in the dark. Daylight Saving Time lasted an extra week this year to accommodate the Commonwealth Games in Melbourne and to keep us in sync with Victoria. Sounds like an April Fool’s Day trick. Farmers have always opposed daylight saving. Dairy farmers have to milk the cows an hour earlier to catch the milk truck an hour earlier; hired labour arrives at work too early when the crops are still dewy, and leave too early when there is still daylight left to work. I read recently where our European ancestors never expected to sleep the night through. Their night was divided into a first sleep and a second sleep; in the early hours they awoke in the fire glow: some meditated, some prayed, some talked and no doubt some made love. Then they went back to sleep. For us, we begin to fret if we don’t sleep a straight eight hours. Which is why so many people use sleeping pills to get what they consider to be a good night’s sleep when they are actually mucking up their natural sleep patterns. My first sleep never lasts more than five hours. Then I get up and do stuff, read or whatever. Sometimes I get a second sleep, though often not. Some researchers suggest we should be allowed to sleep within our internal rhythms to lead a long, healthy life. Tell it to the boss next time you are late for work. The same research says an undisturbed deep sleep at the start of the night – the adage being an hour’s sleep before midnight is worth two hours after it – is essential for learning and to make us work more efficient. The problem is my second sleep wants to kick-in at 9am and then I’m looking for a nanna nap by mid-afternoon. The southern Europeans have perfected their sleep patterns into a lifestyle. They arise late, open their shops around 10 o’clock, then close for lunch and take afternoon kips. The Spanish call it siesta; in Greece it’s called ypnos, or sleep time. Greek banks close at lunchtime and re-open at 4pm – if you are very lucky. Then the Greeks eat and drink all night, and wonder why they need to sleep all day. Studies have shown that from childhood to adolescence, the time we go to bed and get up becomes later and later, peaking at the age of 20 – when my son seemed to turn into a Greek – and then becomes earlier again. Tonight at 2am, between your first and second sleeps, put the clock back an hour and return the night to where it belongs.