On the fine art of napping

Don’t know why it’s called a cat nap, although it does seem like cats can sleep at the drop of a hat. I haven’t perfected my own technique as of yet, but it is not for want of trying. I managed to jam in a cat nap this afternoon between work and bell practice, and it felt really good–shoes off, feet up, comfy sofa, lights down low, no noise at all–ideal. I felt pretty good after my nap, but some people just feel worse after a fifteen minute nap. They wake up all cranky and out of sorts, sore and stiff, un-rested. The secret to the perfect cat nap has to be the ability or the opportunity to lie completely flat while sleeping. If you sleep in a chair, your neck will feel sore and stiff–your head falls forward, which hurts and wakes you up. Total relaxation can be achieved only when your head no longer needs support. You must also have a place to sleep that is free of interruptions such as people, phones, or random noise. Any kind of ambient stress must be eliminated completely. Achieving a calm spirit is absolutely necessary for falling asleep quickly. If you are worried about being discovered or interrupted by a phone call or colleague you cannot get your body to calm down and slide down the slope into unconsciousness. The cat nap is a micro-simulacrum of death, falling off of the cliff into the blackness of eternity, but only for fifteen minutes. Getting the wheels of the mind to stop spinning, to push all considerations out of your mind just long enough to let the sandman work his magic, to sleep the sleep of the just plain tired, that is the secret. Apparently, napping is good for you, but it also goes against our work ethic of work until you drop no matter what. I consider napping not only beneficial, but necessary for good mental health.