"When a man no longer confuses himself with the definition of himself that others have given him, he is at once universal and unique. He is universal by virtue of the inseparability of his organism from the cosmos. He is unique in that he is just this organism and not any stereotype of role, class, or identity assumed for the convenience of social communication. This is, of course, a highly peculiar way of looking at oneself, and it is not at all easy to get used to it. But it is the only way to get out of the trap of the social double-bind, the trap in which we are caught when we try to be both separate and connected at the same time." ~ Alan Wilson Watts 1915-1973. The Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are 1966. Image by - Chemical Messiah

Credit: Ancient World (Facebook) Once, men and women did not sleep as we do now. The notion of “eight hours straight” was foreign. In the Middle Ages, the night unfolded in two distinct breaths: the first sleep and the second sleep. As the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky turned to dark velvet, people would retire early, surrendering to the hush of night. After four or five hours, their eyes would open—not from anxiety or disruption, but from rhythm. This pause in the night was a quiet, secret world. By candlelight, they prayed, leafed through worn books, or sipped spiced wine. Some crossed the street to knock on a neighbor’s door, while others lingered in the kitchen, telling stories to their children, hands wrapped around warm cups. It was the heart of the night, and yet life moved gently—intimate, unhurried, profound. When the invisible clock of darkness signaled, they returned to bed. The second sleep carried them to dawn, when the rooster’s crow marked the beginning of the day. For centuries, this was the rhythm of rest—recorded in diaries, stories, even medical manuals. But the 19th century arrived with streetlamps, factories, and the clamor of urban life. The middle hours of the night lost their enchantment, and people began to sleep “all in one go.” By the 20th century, the memory of segmented sleep had faded. What was once a natural rhythm became misunderstood. Today, we might call it insomnia. Then… it was simply the most human way to live in harmony with the night. See less — in New York.