08/04/2026
Thoughts on being human in a world we've made increasingly unnatural.
ALARMED!
Have We Forgotten How Humans Were Meant to Wake?
This morning my alarm screamed at 5:30 a.m.
Not because my body had finished sleeping.
Not because the sun had risen.
Not because every cell in my body whispered, “It’s time.”
But because I had to be at work by 7:00 a.m.
So I did what millions of us do every single day.
I hit snooze.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
My “gentle” wind chime ringtone eventually convinced me that resistance was futile. I poured myself a Dunkin’ coffee—Sweet Cream meets Caramel Craze—and drove to work in that familiar haze somewhere between dreaming and functioning.
And somewhere between sip number three and the morning commute, a thought hit me.
We call them alarm clocks.
Think about that word for a moment.
Alarm.
It’s the same word we use for fires, emergencies, break-ins, and danger.
Yet we’ve normalized beginning nearly every weekday—and for many people, even the weekends—by triggering one of the most biologically important processes our bodies perform with… an alarm.
We’ve built an entire culture around it.
The perfect ringtone.
The gentle sunrise clock.
The vibrating smartwatch.
The alarm that gradually gets louder.
The one that forces you to solve a math problem before it will finally stop yelling at you.
An entire industry exists to make being startled awake feel… less startling.
But perhaps we’ve been trying to solve the wrong problem all along.
We Are Fighting Our Biology
For hundreds of thousands of years, humans woke with the rising sun, changing light, internal hormones, the sounds of nature, or simply because their bodies had completed the sleep they needed.
Then, in what is essentially the blink of an eye in evolutionary history, we decided that a clock—not our biology—would determine when consciousness begins.
As sophisticated as our alarms have become, there is still nothing natural about waking because a machine decided it was time.
Instead of asking our bodies when they are ready to wake…
We tell them.
Five days a week.
Sometimes six.
Sometimes seven.
We interrupt dreams—our brain’s way of processing and integrating experience.
We cut short deep sleep—our body’s most restorative time for healing and regeneration.
We override the remarkable intelligence of our own nervous systems because modern life requires it.
Then we wonder why so many people spend the first hours of the day fueled by caffeine, fighting brain fog, exhausted before lunch, and counting down until bedtime.
We call ourselves tired.
Burned out.
Lazy.
Unmotivated.
Maybe we’re not broken.
Maybe we’re simply exhausted from living against rhythms that are far older than our calendars.
We Once Trusted Our Different Rhythms
Anthropologists have proposed an intriguing idea about our ancestors.
Long before alarm clocks, timecards, and 8:00 a.m. meetings, human communities may have naturally benefited from something we now spend so much energy trying to correct—our different biological clocks.
Some people naturally woke before dawn.
Others found their energy in the middle of the day.
Some stayed awake long into the night.
Rather than forcing everyone into the same schedule, these differences may have actually protected the tribe.
While some slept, others naturally tended the fire.
Comforted a restless child.
Listened for danger.
Watched over the community.
No one had to force themselves into an unnatural rhythm.
The tribe didn’t need everyone awake at once.
It needed everyone to be who they naturally were.
Today we’ve largely traded those beautifully diverse rhythms for standardized schedules.
Yes, some workplaces have shifts.
But even those often operate from necessity rather than biological balance.
For the most part, the early bird is praised.
The night owl is often labeled lazy.
Children whose biological clocks naturally run later are expected to learn before their brains are fully awake.
Adults ignore exhaustion because the meeting starts at eight.
Instead of asking when each person does their best thinking, creating, healing, leading, or contributing, we’ve decided everyone should function according to the same timetable.
We’ve mistaken uniformity for productivity.
Nature Never Asked Everything to Bloom at Once
Somewhere along the way, we began believing we existed above nature instead of within it.
We act as though we’re separate from the rhythms that govern every other living thing.
Yet no matter how advanced we become, our biology continues reminding us that we are not outside nature.
We are nature.
A forest doesn’t bloom all at once.
Different flowers blossom in different seasons.
There are countless species of birds, and they certainly don’t all sing at sunrise.
The tides don’t apologize for moving at their own pace.
The bees don’t submit productivity reports.
The ocean doesn’t ask permission before it rests between tides.
Nature simply expresses itself.
Only humans have somehow become convinced that existence must first be justified.
Perhaps our differences were never flaws to be corrected.
Perhaps they were part of the design all along.
What If Sleep Isn’t the Problem?
We often blame ourselves.
“I should have gone to bed earlier.”
“I need more discipline.”
“I just need another cup of coffee.”
But what if the problem isn’t that humans are bad at sleeping?
What if humans are simply trying to live against rhythms they evolved over millions of years?
Our bodies aren’t machines with on-off switches.
They operate through circadian rhythms—complex biological cycles influenced by light, hormones, genetics, temperature, and activity.
Some people naturally wake before sunrise.
Others are biologically wired to come alive later in the morning.
We may have built skyscrapers, smartphones, artificial intelligence, and global economies…
But our nervous systems are still carrying millions of years of evolutionary history.
Technology has changed faster than biology ever could.
The early bird isn’t necessarily more disciplined.
They’re simply aligned with the schedule our culture happens to reward.
The morning dove and the owl both have purpose.
The Hidden Cost of Constant Sleep Debt
Humans don’t just lose sleep occasionally.
We accumulate sleep debt continuously.
Night after night.
Week after week.
Year after year.
We often try negotiating with biology.
One more cup of coffee.
One more energy drink.
Sleeping until noon on Saturday.
A Sunday afternoon nap.
But the body keeps a remarkably accurate ledger.
While naps certainly have benefits, they can’t fully replace consistently getting the sleep your body needs across complete sleep cycles.
Research has linked chronic sleep deprivation with increased risks of heart disease, diabetes, obesity, depression, anxiety, impaired immune function, memory problems, and decreased cognitive performance.
The body is remarkably resilient.
But resilience isn’t the same as invincibility.
Imagine asking your body to recover from a small injury every single day for decades.
Eventually…
Something gives.
Sometimes in the body.
Sometimes in the mind.
Often both.
A Question We Rarely Ask
Perhaps the most radical question isn’t about alarm clocks at all.
Perhaps it’s this.
Why do we have to earn the right to simply exist?
From the moment we’re old enough to understand the world, we’re taught that our worth is measured by productivity.
We are praised for being busy.
Rewarded for sacrificing sleep.
Celebrated for working through exhaustion.
Somewhere along the way, we stopped asking whether this was the only way to organize society.
The birds don’t earn the sunrise.
The trees don’t justify their existence before they bloom.
The tides don’t clock in.
Nature doesn’t confuse being with producing.
It simply exists.
Yet humans—the only species capable of questioning the systems we’ve built—often spend the majority of their lives trading the very hours that sustain their health, creativity, relationships, wonder, and well-being in exchange for permission to keep living.
Food.
Shelter.
Healthcare.
Rest.
Time.
Things essential for life have become things we must first earn.
Work itself has never been the enemy.
Meaningful work can bring purpose.
Contribution.
Community.
Healing.
Creation.
Service.
These are deeply human expressions.
The question isn’t whether we should contribute.
It’s whether contribution should require sacrificing the very biology that allows us to flourish.
Purpose should never oppose balance.
We call it earning a living, yet one of the first things we sacrifice to earn that living is the very biological process that keeps us healthiest and most alive.
What Would the World Look Like If We Trusted Human Nature Again?
It’s an impossible question.
Maybe that’s exactly why it’s worth asking.
What if people worked when their minds were naturally sharpest?
What if schools recognized that teenagers’ biological clocks are different from adults’?
What if productivity was measured by quality instead of rigid hours?
Would creativity increase?
Would burnout decrease?
Would fewer people rely on stimulants simply to feel awake?
Would we become kinder?
More patient?
More emotionally regulated?
As a therapist, I often sit with people who genuinely believe they’re lazy because they’re resting.
I spend a surprising amount of time helping people understand something our culture seems to have forgotten.
Rest is an activity.
It has purpose.
Recovery isn’t the absence of productivity.
Recovery makes productivity possible.
Perhaps not every profession could accommodate complete flexibility.
Hospitals need nurses.
Firefighters must respond.
Flights must depart.
The world requires coordination.
But perhaps we’ve accepted the current model as the only model because it’s familiar—not because it’s biologically ideal.
The Alarm Clock Experiment
Tomorrow morning, millions of us will wake.
Not because the sun invited us.
Not because our bodies completed the sleep they needed.
Not because nature whispered,
“It’s time.”
But because somewhere…
a schedule…
a production target…
a quarterly report…
a company…
a bottom line…
decided it was.
Maybe that’s simply the price of living in the modern world.
Or maybe…
it’s one of the greatest experiments humanity has ever conducted on itself.
We won’t truly know the cost until we ask a question we’ve almost forgotten how to ask.
What would happen if we trusted human nature as much as we trust the clock?
Maybe the greatest luxury isn’t sleeping in.
Maybe it’s waking because your body quietly says,
“I’m ready.”
Perhaps we were never meant to spend our lives proving that we deserve to be here.
Perhaps our first birthright wasn’t productivity.
Perhaps it was simply…
to be.
With love,
Sara
