It’s hit me really hard this last week or so. The frustration of having to prioritise sleep and push back the things I do for myself.

Thanks to a virus. It’s always sickness that gets you to realise how important health is, and how fortunate you are normally when in good health.

And it made me see how little sleep I get normally.

Of course I knew it before. Knew it. But didn’t really think about it.

I had goals and dreams after all. And with a job and a toddler and an apartment to clean and look after and all the other things we have to do in life, the things we want to do get pushed to the side.

Where else do I have time for writing? For workouts? For music and art? For learning languages? For listening to music or reading?

You know, just doing things for me.

Every creative will know this feeling. Where is the time for art when you have to work a full-time job and do chores and everything?

And every parent knows it too. When my son is awake, I want to prioritise time with him. You know, I have to work and I have to maintain at least a basic level of cleanliness and hygiene etc in the house. But I really choose to be around my son as much as I can while he’s awake.

In Japanese, the language we speak in our household, there’s a phrase ‘mono no aware’, which loosely translates to the fleeting nature of time. How fragile living things are in those moments of time. Ephemerality, perhaps.

In our house, we try to live in awareness of this mono no aware. How ephemeral our time with our son while he is young is.

And so I try to be with him while he’s awake. That time is already too short, by the time you factor in sleep and work, and how little time we have in the morning and the evening with him. I feel so guilty pushing him to bedtime when he wants to stay with us, knowing we don’t have much time with him. Knowing he needs to sleep so many hours even if he lives in eternal FOMO and insists he doesn’t need to sleep.

Knowing that when he’s asleep, maybe I only have half an hour (an hour max) to myself to work towards my own dreams.

If that, sometimes.

I used to push it. And I so desperately want to again. Maybe I could get two hours of my own time if I pushed. If I didn’t prioritise my own sleep.

And, look, it worked for a while. Until my body crashed down and I had to force myself to start again, ignoring the blatant reminders from my own body and my friends that I should sleep more.

I should listen, I know.

But I didn’t. Over and over and over again.

How desperate am I for my own dreams? Yes. I’m that desperate.

Until I got sick again this time and really let myself look back at the patterns.

This time, I got sick immediately after the day I got almost no sleep because I stayed up late and then woke early so I could do the proofread of my new book that’s coming out soon. With no time in my day to do it, I only had the night time. And so burnt the candle at both ends for a few nights in a row with a desperate push on the last night.

Who needs sleep, right? I can live with 4-5 hours, right?

Nope.

I already have a weak immune system. It’s already major cold and flu season in Australia right now. Covid’s back, and we had Ekka week (country fair, which means everyone gets sick).

So of course I instantly got sick.

And it happens every time I push too much.

Damn it.

My friends nagged me again. And this time, I even nagged myself.

I knew it. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it.

And yet I do it every time.

8 hours sleep? What is that? I’d wish so often when I hear of people sleeping long nights, lay ins, that I could do that too. But with parenting and a dream, it could never happen.

But 8 hours is important, and my body is clearly not liking less than that. So I made a pact to myself this time to sleep more.

But, damn, where is the time for goals? For working towards dreams?

I ran the calculations in my head so many times.

Realistically, near to none. Half an hour, maybe.

For sure, I can write a book in half an hour slots in my days. But that would take so long, and I have so many things I want to write! I want it quicker than that.

I already wrote a long time ago about finding small moments in the day for you. I used it as a bonus, and for advice for people struggling to make time.

Well, now it looks like I’m that person struggling for time, and I’m going to have to take my own advice truly now. Not as a bonus, but as a lifeline.

It doesn’t have hurt though, does it?

Looking at the dreams you have and wondering how you’re ever going to achieve them, seeing the pathway stretch out even longer than before.

The goal so far away.

Like a mountain just grew right in front of my eyes.

But if we don’t look after our bodies—if we don’t eat, sleep, move right—then everything beyond that crumbles.

For how can we ever really reach our dreams and do what we want when our body is constantly breaking, begging for rest?

In the long run, I know this is the best decision. Perhaps I just need to tame my ego. But the ADHD part of me still isn’t listening. Still trying to fit too much into my day.

Last night I got maybe 7.5 hours sleep. Getting closer. But I kept pushing the time.

Need to be stricter with myself.

Because, sure. Those late or stupidly early times might be the only times I get for myself. But they’re also the only times I get to rest.

Which is the only time our body heals.

Does this feel all too real for you too?

Are you juggling a dream, and something you want to do, with the crazy realities of life?

Do you manage to get enough sleep?

How do you handle it all?

Or are we all just here, going half crazy, running on fumes and half-held dreams just to survive the madness of this life? To maintain some part of who we truly are in a world we have to be something else?