Why do all the beautiful ideas come at dawn?

 I am hoping to uncover a stash of wasted treasures—brilliant thoughts that drift through my mind at night, only to fade into oblivion by morning. It usually happens when my two-year-old wakes me up, and I barely recognize myself. It’s as though, in those groggy hours, my brain decides to unlock a hidden genius that I didn’t know existed. I start to suspect, for a brief moment, that I’m a creative mastermind.

There’s something about the calmness of the night—despite the chaos of my crying toddler—that sets my thoughts free. My brain slips into an altered state, where the usual filters and inhibitions are gone, leaving behind pure, unfiltered creativity. I can’t help but wonder: Why can’t I be this brilliant at noon?

Of course, the tragedy is that I rarely remember these gems when I wake up. I did read Why We Sleep by Matthew Walker, so I get it—circadian rhythms, sleep hormones, and the brain’s downtime processing. But understanding the science doesn’t stop me from wanting to cling to these fleeting moments of inspiration.

So, I decided to take action. Today, I placed a small notebook by my bed. No glowing screens to excite my two-year-old (because if he sees the iPad, it’s game over). Just a pen and paper, ready to capture the genius of my half-conscious brain. Will it work? Only time—and perhaps some scribbles—will tell.

PS. My handwriting is terrible, and no I am not a doctor. Just a sleep-deprived Mama.

Good Night Folkes

Rana