Rosalind Achebe writes about how energy rises and falls across an ordinary day. She is interested in what the body actually notices at seven in the morning and at three in the afternoon, and in describing those hours plainly rather than prescribing anything about them.
There is a version of an afternoon nap that leaves you clearer than you were before, and a version that leaves you groggy and useless until dinner. The difference is not luck.
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There are mornings that start heavy for no clear reason, and I have stopped trying to explain them away and started just…
The difference between a room that is fully dark and one with a thin seam of light along the window frame is…
While something simmers on the stove, I have started lying down on the kitchen floor for a few minutes, and my lower…
Every year around the same week, my hands start going cold at their own schedule, hours before the rest of me registers…
There is a stretch of morning where the smell of coffee reaches you before your body has decided it actually wants any,…
Heat doesn't tire me out the way a long day tires me out. It empties me from somewhere lower down, somewhere behind…
Long before my brain admits the afternoon dip has arrived, my hands already know. They get clumsy, then heavy, then still, in…
Sleepy, worn out, and drained are not the same feeling, even though we reach for the same word to describe all three.…
Some dinners leave my body too busy to settle into sleep. I started paying closer attention to which ones let me actually…