Early to bed and early to rise is a good habit. It seems to run in my family, through generations, naturally without effort.
My kid brother was an early riser. Young he was, well under ten, he got up early in the morning. His getting up so early was a folktale in our family. In early childhood, that was an exception.
Not so, his brother, me, his eight years senior. I got up past seven. It took my father to wake me up every morning by shaking my foot. My brother was already up, playing with his toys, beating me to the game of starting his day. This was the routine in our family, day in and day out.
My father got up early to make breakfast for his kids, about five in the morning before we left for school. By 9 pm, he could be seen falling asleep on the lounge. He struggled to keep up with us. Within minutes he was fast asleep in my parents' bedroom. Now you know where we got the ‘early to bed — early to rise’ gene.
My father falling asleep so early was a mystery to me then. If there was any business I had to discuss with my father, I knew to finish it all up well before his bedtime.
But by the time I was in my late twenties, I was sleeping early. 10 pm was my maximum tolerant limit for bedtime. Now, I was just like my father; early to bed and rise.
All my life, I fall asleep within a few short minutes of getting into bed.
I have been on a similar trajectory of sleep patterns to my father's. If I must stay up late for a party or a gathering, I must have a nap in the afternoon. That allows me to stay up a bit later into the night, perhaps the latest is 11 pm, until the sleep butterflies start circling me.
In my sixties, I get up early, by 5.30 am. My mornings are the best time of my day. I am super productive in the mornings. Moving into the afternoon, I am in cooldown mode from 6 pm. I eat regularly in between, exercise and walk. My meals are regular; breakfast at 6 am, lunch by 11.30 and dinner by 5 pm.
I figured through Google that the original statement “Early to bed — early to rise” was coined by Benjamin Franklin.
A Child of Curiosity How inherent inquisitiveness became a key driver in learning experiences. Denzil Jayasinghe · B orn in the mid-20th century, I am a product of the post-World War II era. My parents, who were teenagers when the war commenced, married in the 1950s. As a representative of the baby boomer generation, I was born under the astrological sign of Capricorn, the tenth sign of the zodiac. My birth took place at Zoysa Nursing Home, a renowned institution in Colombo, Sri Lanka, around 5 in the morning. Sri Lanka, known for its tropical climate, is a beautiful island nation south of India. This climate appealed to me, and I sought similar weather in my twenties, spending them in Dubai, where the winter resembles an Australian summer. Raised by religious parents, I held them in deep affection. However, the church teachings posed a paradox for a young mind, instructing one to love God more than one’s parents. I initially adhered to the Ten Commandments and other societal norms in ...
Packing lists An addiction to packing lists Denzil Jayasinghe 3 min read·Nov 6, 2022 My fascination with packing lists started when I was young. Eventually, it became a life-long habit, a kind of addiction. When I enrolled at the Christian brothers’ formative school at eleven, a packing list was given to my parents. 2 School shorts 2 School shirts, white 2 Baniyans, aka vests 4 Pairs of white socks 1 Sarong 2 Casual shirts 2 Casual shorts 2 Handkerchiefs 1 Toothbrush 1 Comb 1 Bedsheet 2 Pillowcases 1 Pair of black shoes 1 Pair of canvas sports shoes My parents went into fast gear to assemble the packing list. My father started from the bottom of the list, the shoes. He took me by bus to Colombo to P G Martins, a shoemaker. We came out of that shoe store with DS-branded black and Shinwa-branded canvas shoes. Also bought was a Ford suitcase, in shiny sky-blue colour. Mother bought vests and socks from Velona, a garment outlet run by one of our relations, Aunty Helen. A trip to a ta...
Demons and Devotion: A Family’s Pilgrimage Denzil Jayasinghe · “Demons and Devotion: A Pilgrimage to Tewatta” is a short story by Denzil Jayasinghe about a family’s pilgrimage to a holy site in Sri Lanka. The story follows Denzil, the eldest son, as he reluctantly accompanies his devout parents on this journey to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. Although initially sceptical, Denzil reflects on his childhood faith and his family's hardships. However, the pilgrimage turns unexpectedly when an encounter with a priest who claims a demon possesses Denzil creates tension and leaves him angry. T he air hung heavy with a solemnity that felt out of place for a silver wedding anniversary. Denzil’s father, whose pronouncements held the weight of scripture, declared, “We are going on a special trip to the holy place of Our Lady at Tewatta. This day, showing God’s blessings, will be a private event for our family.” On a recent arrival for a two-week holiday in Sri Lanka...
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