THE ROMANCE OF NAPPING is published in Bowen Street Press’s anthology, Hobby.

You can sleep when you’re dead is a well and good saying.

It is one that plays a distinct role at some point during our lives; whether it be a self-pep talk completing an arduous project well into the night, as a form of peer pressure when it’s 2 am and you don’t want your friends to go home or, indeed, in death. It’s the catch-cry against finality, a clear statement that you really don’t want things to end. Because that’s what the saying is, a righteous no to an end. It’s an imprudent ‘let’s keep things as they are’, or a 'let’s not give up just yet’ muttered to oneself or thrown in the face of others in trying times. It’s a good saying despite that sleep is and always will be imperative to life. 

So, here’s an even better saying: You can nap anytime.

You can nap anytime if you have the means. Naps don’t have any pre-requisites; they don’t ask you for a lot. If you ever tell someone that you have just taken a nap, or are about to, there is a standard response that seems to be programmed into the very fabric of our beings, it’s something like, ‘oh you’re one of those… I can never do it you know; I always end up so tired afterwards’. Don’t believe this response. Debate it. Fight it. Free yourself of the people in your life who live under constraints of such a narrow-minded viewpoint.

Napping is for all who wish to partake in its practice. The Spanish have ingrained it into their culture; a colleague of mine insists a 2.47 pm nap is the only thing guaranteed to get him through the working day. Napping is an age-old application that feels like a new-age religion, where we can all baptise ourselves in slumber’s sweet embrace, if only for a moment.

To be clear, napping and sleeping are not one and the same. Both exist in the same category of life, the same species (so to speak), but both are inherently different animals with different purposes. Sleeping is an arbitrary necessity of which we are tethered to for the foreseeable span of our lives, but napping, napping is an art form. It comes with many nuances and subtleties. It has edges and definition that can be witnessed in the soft rise of a chest on a summer daybed. It can be spotted in the blush lines on a person’s face when they have just awoken. These are cues only nappers can pick up on, an almost-invisible language in which they converse with their body. It can be fraught with danger if you get it wrong. But should you happen to get it right, it’s barometric. It’s bliss.

The Art of Napping

The art of the nap exists within each of us. When I doze off, and when I wake up from a nap, I feel a sense of nostalgia for those long, lazy car trips to and from the city as a child in the back seat of my parent’s four-wheel-drive. I would daydream and nap only to wake up as the car turned into the driveway and I would close my eyes and keep the pretence of being asleep. In most ways this was to be held, and to be carried. To feel small, safe and secure in someone’s arms. To be taken, and taken care of; in a daze. To feel weightless in a moment and be vulnerable in feeling loved. This is the romance I associate with napping. 

There was a time I was reckless and young at my friend Dan’s house party and consumed with the pace of the night. For lack of something better to say, I indeed claimed I had no interest in sleeping until I was dead. I walked into my friend’s room, fumbled by the light switch, turned, and was amazed to find someone in the bed. His name was Peachy, and he would later become a friend, but in that moment, I was bewildered to find someone where no one should have been. He sat up and didn’t seem drunk. He looked at me, smiled, and said, ‘oh sorry, Dan said I could nap in here for a bit before I join the party,’ and with that he turned over and went back to sleep. The confidence with which he delivered this line before proceeding to go back about his business shook me. Years later it would serve as a bold marker in my memory bank, as at the time I had no reasonable excuse for this man’s actions. Put simply, how could someone want to nap when there was a raging party happening all around? How, when we were young and impressionable and prone to sounds and colours and strange people to be caught up in conversation with? It sparked a curiosity for napping, or more, a curiosity for how napping could be a precursor to something better. To something beyond. Even before parties, or sometimes during, this is the romance I associate with napping.

When I have laid bare on a city harbour beach in the summer, the crowds abuzz with the static of conversation, the high-pitched yelps of children and the splashes of bodies entering the water forming a spectacular score that would play out all around me, I would take the time to lay down and close my eyes. I would often let my mind wander to strange and exotic places, diegetic sound taking form and shape in my mind that allowed sleep to come easy. For a few summers as a youth, I would go to the beach in the middle of the day with the intention of dozing off. Sand is a special kind of bed and beach napping is a unique experience of its own. There is huge comfort to be found in taking a nap in a public place that you define as safe. I strongly believe waking on the beach is a reality adjustment that each of us should try to experience at least once. I wake first by sound, then perhaps the feeling of sand blown across my body or the caress of a loved one on my arm. If you open your eyes at this moment, you will find yourself between worlds. Your eyes will struggle to focus, everything will be percolated and drowned out like an early-day Instagram filter. You will come to slowly, like walking out of a cinema and replaying the movie as though it were a dream in your head. This is the romance I associate with napping.

The Rules of Napping

There are some simple rules to guide your way to properly napping. This won’t be exact for every person, as we are each caught up in the pull and sway of our own bodies and our own lives. As humans we need experience brought about by practice before we can really feel what works for us. Consider these rules a starting point.

The ideal naptime is twenty minutes. This has been proven via scientific studies and analysts alike, but perhaps more importantly it is tried, tested and proven by me. Having less than twenty minutes is always acceptable; should you feel ready to arise after say, twelve minutes, you are well within your power and the rules of napping to do so. In harrowing circumstances, you are allowed to nap for up to an hour. It should only be for when you are listening deep within your body and know that you deserve every second of the sixty minutes, but not a single minute more. Anything over an hour is considered sleeping, which as we’ve since established, you can do when you’re dead.

To keep yourself in check, it is recommended that you set an alarm to rouse you from your short slumber. Not using an alarm is a foolhardy adventure that only increases one’s chances of ruining their day. Twenty-four minutes is an ideal time to set, as this gives you a four-minute buffer to actually attain slumber.

Please don’t be afraid to snooze your alarm should you not feel satisfied with your initial nap; this is completely okay. After pressing the snooze button, you will find yourself engaging in tertiary napping. To be specific, you’re on the second nap. The rules are clear that the action of you waking and pressing snooze has since reset your internal Nap Counter, and it is in fact not just one long nap. The naps are intrinsically connected, but they should nonetheless be counted as separate entities. As dictated by the rules, a second snooze is allowed however, the danger therein lies in the temptation to concede a third snooze. When moving into fourth nap territory one must be vigilant, because the fourth nap does not, in fact, exist. The fourth nap is instead theoretical, lost somewhere in the no man’s land of napping and full-blown sleep while simultaneously being neither. Commit to it, and the art will be lost.

Perhaps in slight contrast to this essay’s suggestion, equally as important as the duration of your nap is the timing. While I staunchly advocate you can and should nap anytime, those less experienced nappers should be wary of undertaking anything past 6 pm. To ease your way into the art of napping, listen to your body, let yourself rest as and when required, but aim for mid-morning or mid-afternoon if you can, lest you risk ruining your actual sleep pattern and tainting your perception of napping prematurely.

The ideal sleeping conditions for a nap are in a place which feels cozy and warm, but most importantly, temporary. Almost like it was chosen at random, a selection made in a daze. Upon closer inspection, those truly versed in the art of napping understand the places we nap are selected with serious thought. You have to let the universe know that you are very serious about napping, and not at all looking to sleep. Nooks are perfect spots for napping as they provide the coziness needed for a short kip, but none of the ergonomic benefits of a long-term sleeping place. The key is for your napping locale to lack a sense of commitment; I’ve even known skilled nappers to take their talents to a bare floor. This theory is perhaps best explained using a simple idiom you should commit to memory, ‘A couch is to napping what a bed is to sleep’. Having said that, a bed can work perfectly for a nap, just try not to get under the blankets as that is a commitment which is likely to warn the universe that your true intention is to sleep for a long time. You should always try to sleep on top of the bed. If you need an extra level of comfort, a throw or light blanket is advised. Should you be cold and need to get into the bed, please do not go under the sheets. Instead try to ensure you stay on top of the sheets but under the doona; this is a tactic best reserved for advanced nappers. but should keep the universe in check.

The best way to wake from a nap is to take it slow. Your re-entry into the physical realm should be a meander not a sprint. Ease back into your day or your evening and slowly collect your thoughts. You will often find them scattered near your head or in piles on the floor. Sometimes they are known to be floating in the air above your resting spot. Once collected, set your intention for whatever lies ahead and smile, napping is a secret joke that only those of us who get it right can understand.

I like to think that someday right before I die, I will have a strange recollection; memories of life will flash before my very eyes. And in the instance of knowing my fate, of looking into the eyes of the inevitable and perhaps seeing death himself, I will smile, knowing what’s to come. For this too, is the romance I will associate with napping.