90 Time August 17/August 24, 2020
iT sTarTs on a crisp winTer nighT. ouTside iT’s
dark and cold, the grass already coated with a thick,
white layer of hoarfrost. Inside I sit—wrapped in a
blanket, drinking my hot chocolate, surrounded by
the orange glow of candlelight, with lavender incense
diffusing into the air—slowly and purposefully craft-
ing a tale. One designed to send millions of people,
like you, drifting off to sleep.
It sounds like a peaceful scene. One so soporific I
might send myself off to dreamland before I’ve fin-
ished my story. But it hasn’t always been this way.
Earlier in the day, everything was frantic. With
deadlines looming, calls to make and emails to an-
swer, it was like my phone was alive, lighting up
with job after job, demanding my attention with
high- pitched alerts and jarring beeps. It’s easy
to let a smartphone’s incessant needs flood into
our bedrooms too. And that, according to profes-
sor Orfeu Buxton, editor in chief of the journal
Sleep Health, is why many of us are losing our abil-
ity to drift off naturally.
“When we sleep, things that keep us awake or dis-
rupt our sleep are generally called threats,” he says.
“We’re mammals, after all; we’re not computers. We
don’t just shut off and sleep. These threats can be
endogenous—internally generated, like if you have
stressful thoughts—or they can be exogenous, such
as the noise of an ambulance or pinging notifications
on your phone overnight. All those engage the threat
vigilance detection centers in our brain.”Phones—and their alerts—have been designed
to steal our attention. So about 10 years ago, des-
perate to sleep better, I fully removed myself from
my phone’s reach. I took up wild camping— sleeping
in remote and wild places around the country, away
from campsites, people and, crucially, wi-fi. Some-
times I head off for a week with no contact with the
modern world, other times for just a single night. No
matter which way I choose, it always seems to reset
my sleeping pattern effectively.My quest for these sleeping adventures has led to
some extreme bedtime scenarios. I’ve dangled off
the edge of a sea cliff while seals frolicked below in
the waves. I’ve bedded down inside caves where the
only light comes from my own campfire. I’ve lain on
mountaintops watching the stars and listening only
to my breath as it clouds above me, then dissipates
into the night sky.
And although, to some people, they may sound
like scary places to take a pillow, I’ve found over
the years that they often lead to the best night’s
sleep. I am suddenly forced to see my concerns
from a different perspective. How on earth can
answering an email be anywhere near as impor-
tant as sourcing clean water? How can posting
on social media rank with staying warm, dry and
safe? And why would answering a message be a
worry when I need to navigate my way in the dark?
There’s another primal function I tap into by
sleeping outdoors: resetting my circadian clock.
“We all have an internal clock in our brain
that tells us what biological time of day it is,” says
Ken Wright, a professor at the University of Colorado
and director of a sleep lab. By sleeping in nature theThis will put
you to sleep
INSIDE
THE ART
OF THE
BEDTIME
STORY
By Phoebe
Smith
Sleep