The last two nights sleeping on the floor were great. I’m fully adapted to it now. What I’m not adapted to is sleeping on my back, which is what I’ll work on next.

There is no reason why I need to be able to sleep on my back. I could lay a big blanket down, cover up with the same stuff that was on my bed, and sprawl out on the floor. I would like to acquire the skill of sleeping on my back, however. It seems senselessly limiting that I have to be in a special position to sleep.

Sleep is so necessary, so important. My body and mind crave it night after night. And yet it’s totally involuntary. I can’t make myself sleep. There is no thought I can think that will make it so. Nor is flipping the sleep switch something I can do voluntarily, without conscious, verbal thought, like moving my arms or legs. Sleep finds me when it pleases.

The deeper reason for me doing this experiment is that I want more control over my sleep.

Trying to sleep on my back in the confining mummy bag emphasizes this. I feel comfortable on my back and like the position. After awhile, I get the urge to shift positions, perhaps on to my side. I think, why do I feel the need to toss and turn?

Am I uncomfortable? No.

Is there pressure on any part of my body that I need to relieve? No.

So why can’t I just relax and remain in the position I want until sleep comes? If I start moving around I’ll just toss and turn until sleep finds me. It doesn’t accomplish anything.

When I can sleep on my back, I will have really achieved something.

The Mummy Bag

I love my mummy sleeping bag. You might wonder, if I’m sleeping on the floor now, why do it in this kind of sleeping bag? It’s not necessary. I could cover myself with blankets and sheets and have more freedom to shift around.

The lack of freedom to move around is exactly what I like about the mummy bag. I need to learn to relax. I should be able to lay on my back and fall asleep within a few minutes.

Also, I think the mummy bag is comfortable. I wish it fit me more closely, so there was less dead space in it. During the summer, when I don’t need to stay warm, I can sprawl out on the floor. Learning to sleep in this bag is also good practice for when I really have no choice to sprawl out, like when I’m in a tent and it’s below freezing outside.

There are several advantages to the mummy bag:

• The bag moves with you, unlike blankets that can shift around during the night. When I slept in my bed, I would sometimes awake to find that one or more of my blankets was on the floor.
• I like the feeling of being cocooned.
• It’s possible to stay warm with less padding overall. I couldn’t imagine staying warm in a 60 degree room without at least four layers on top of me. With the mummy bag, all I need is a blanket or pad below me. As thin as the bag is, it traps my heat very effectively.

Reactions

Every time I tell somebody about my sleeping on the floor, they always have a reason why it’s a bad idea or why it wouldn’t work for them. “Have you tried it?” I ask. No, they answer. “So how do you know?” Well, you’re supposed to sleep on a bed, comes the response.

My bed could not be less appealing to me at this point, after merely four nights on the floor. When I lay in bed now, testing how it feels, it seems wrong. Wrong, not bad. Of course I don’t lay on my bed and think “how painful this is.” It feels good. Too good. Like food that’s cloyingly sweet.

But after a few minutes in bed, my back does start to hurt. I feel tension. I don’t know why. It doesn’t happen on the floor.

Maybe it’s like the feeling I get when I refrain from eating and stay a little hungry. Whenever I’m offered a snack, I most often turn it down. This is strange to people. Our culture programs us to eat whatever is in front of us, and to be eating constantly.  Don’t make anybody feel bad.  Eat something.  You need to eat.  You don’t want to be hungry.

I like being hungry.  Not starving, not deprived, but just hungry.  I think sleeping in total comfort in a bed is like stuffing your face full of food because you’re not supposed to be hungry for one second, otherwise you’re a weirdo or you’re poor. If you sleep on the floor, you’re eschewing total comfort and living like a poor Bangladeshi or something.

I think it’s good to stay a little hungry. Always being satisfied, or stuffed, or perfectly comfortable has negative consequences in the long run.

Keeping Up Appearances

Not surprisingly, the simple act of sleeping on the floor has been turned into a product. At least one website offers a raised platform suitable for those who wish to sleep Japanese style but want to maintain the appearance of a bed.

It may not have a mattress and box springs, but it’s still another huge piece of furniture to cart around. It’s just as hard as the floor, but the floor is already there! Why would anybody pay money for something they already have?

So that you can look normal. For family, for friends, or even for yourself.

Now, I don’t relish being abnormal. Some people get as much pleasure out of being different as the people who want to be like everyone else — they need the approval (or disapproval) of others. Personally, I just want to figure out the best way to do stuff, and I ignore whether my ways are accepted or rejected by others.  My happiness is not based on whether people agree or disagree with me.

But I have to say, in America today, if you’re not considered weird or abnormal, you probably have a crappy lifestyle. What we consider normal, in diet or work habits or sleep arrangements or anything else, is usually harmful and damaging to us!

Related posts:

1. Sleeping on the Floor, Night 2
2. Sleeping on the Floor, Night 1
3. A Sleeping Bag Instead of a Bed for 30 Days
4. What Passion Looks Like