About this passageWritten for this collection, prompted by a saying that circulates without an author: that the day begins when you put your head down, not when you get up. It is set out here without the metaphysical claim that often accompanies it, because the practical part stands on its own and does not need it.
The day starts when you lay your head down. Whatever you hand to the dark is what will be waiting in the morning, already dressed and standing by the bed.
Most people spend the last hour of the day rehearsing. They run the argument again, in a better version where they win. They audit tomorrow. Then they sleep badly and meet the morning already tired of it, and call that a bad night's sleep, when what actually happened is that they did tomorrow twice.
There is a smaller version of this that works. Put down one thing you are carrying — not solve it, put it down — and name one thing you intend to do first. Not a plan. One thing. The mind will keep working on whatever you leave it, so it matters what you leave it.
None of this requires believing that the night arranges anything on your behalf. It only requires noticing that you are the one who chooses what goes in last, and that you have been choosing badly, and that this is unusually easy to change compared with everything else on the list.