Beauties Sleeping - 30 Years Apart

A Soul-led Creative Poem

At 47 she has no alarm.
She has no trouble waking on time.
Despite the battlefield of nightly rousings.

To the dog barking at a secret noise that broke his rem sleep.
Or some immersive poodle dreams that position him comatose on her feet.
To midnight twitches and 3am glitches.
Goodnight dreams patchy and broken.
All scratched out now that she’s woken.

Early to bed, early to rise.
Squeeze in as much rest in order to thrive.

At 17 she fights her sleep.
Forget rest, sleep isn’t a treat.
She has a preference for midnight feasts.
Friends and music and beauty and the beast.

For once asleep she goes down deep.
Sleep is easy - no counting sheep.

She wakes to spaceships sending messages of love.
Transmissions flicker from above.
A precurser for the light of day.
Come too soon to take the night away.

For it’s the inbetween time she loves.
A time of magic, mystery, where it’s possible to float above.

I’ve recently been reflecting on how different the sleep behaviours and patterns are between me and my daughter (13 going on 17!). Sometimes, bedtime can be a battle, just as it was in her younger years (for very different reasons).

The truth is, at different stages of life, we need different things. Our rhythms shift, our desires evolve, and what once nourished us may no longer serve us in the same way. Yet, we often resist these changes, comparing ourselves to younger versions of who we once were or measuring our needs against the lives of others. The truth is, the deepest act of self-care is not striving to be who we used to be but honouring who we are now.

This poem speaks to that shift—the way sleep, once an afterthought in the rush of youth, becomes something sacred, something earned. At seventeen, the night is an endless invitation, an adventure not to be wasted. At forty-seven, it is a space of necessary restoration, interrupted yet precious, a foundation for thriving. Neither way of being is wrong. Both are beautiful. But they belong to different seasons.

Acknowledging what you need in this moment, in this version of yourself, is an act of self-respect. Instead of longing for the effortless sleep of youth or wishing for the stamina of another, there is power in embracing where you are today. The first step to truly caring for yourself is to listen—to your body, to your spirit, to the quiet truths that whisper in the in-between hours. Because when you honour yourself in this season, you create space for a life that is not only sustainable but deeply fulfilling.

My question for you to ponder:

What if, instead of longing for who you once were or comparing yourself to others, you asked yourself with honesty and compassion—what do I truly need in this season of my life?

Take care, Sam x

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