The Church of Sleep, Sleep, Sleep

The purplish bruise that had spread across my jaw disappeared within a week.
To my own surprise, it vanished as if by magic.
I was amazed.

When I showed up at the office that Monday, 

my coworkers couldn’t hide their curiosity about my spectacularly bruised face.
“What happened?”
“What happened?”
“What HAPPENED??”

Since many of us work from home, the interrogation dragged on over the week.
People I saw for the first time on Monday asked.
Then Tuesday’s crew.
Then Wednesday’s.
The “What happened to your face??” finally ended on Thursday.

By Friday, the bruise had shrunk but turned a painful reddish-brown. 

My coworkers just looked at me with pity and stopped asking questions.
But when I came in the following Monday, the bruise was completely gone.
Now the new question was:
“Wait—what happened to your bruise???”

The answer was simple:
That entire week, I’d made sleep my top priority.

What do wild animals do when they’re injured?
They lick their wounds.
Then they sleep.
I don’t know what else they do, but licking my jaw wasn’t exactly an option.
So I chose the sleeping part.
I’d call it an authentic animal-style healing method.

I’ve got plenty of daily routines.
But for that week, I dropped everything—cleaning, laundry, dishes—reduced to the bare minimum.
I slept in as long as possible in the mornings, 

and after work, I avoided touching my phone or computer.

I made securing sleep my top priority.
As a result, the bruise disappeared in record time.

When I told one of my close colleagues about this,
he laughed and teased me.
“Wouldn’t the bruise have disappeared anyway with time, even if you hadn’t slept?
Did you properly compare the results?”
He didn’t believe me at all.

Truth be told, even I hadn’t expected such a dramatic outcome. 

I’d just hoped that a bit of rest might speed up recovery.

But the transformation went far beyond just my skin.
Mentally and physically, I felt like I’d been reborn.
It was almost like reaching some kind of enlightenment.

After sleeping deeply and long for several days, one thought came to me:
“Maybe all I need to be happy… is to sleep.”

For years, I’ve been chasing happiness—
cutting back on sleep to get things done,
pushing myself even when I was mentally and physically exhausted.
I’ve been chronically sleep-deprived.

I was always sleepy.
I woke up tired.

Talking to people felt like a chore.

When I saw someone I knew walking toward me,

instead of feeling happy, I thought:

“Please don’t notice me...”

Sometimes in the evening, I’d pretend not to see them at all.

My brain was slow, my memory foggy, and I had no patience for complex thoughts.

I put off difficult tasks.
Craved junk food.
Binge-watched short videos.
Played endless games of blitz chess.
I had no willpower to stop.
And of course, I woke up the next day feeling like garbage.
“I ’m lazy, stupid, and antisocial,” I’d tell myself. And I believed it.

But during that one week of living with a big bruise on my jaw,

just getting good sleep made my inner world improve rapidly.

It’s no exaggeration to say that all my worldly suffering vanished.

I was stupid, lazy, or antisocial, but it was not because of my personality.
I was just sleep-deprived.
Now I understand that.

Everyone knows that sleep is important.
But maybe we don’t fully realize just how drastically it affects our minds.

I got the bruise on a Saturday,

and started sleeping longer from Sunday.

By Tuesday, I thought, “Huh? I feel pretty good.”

By Thursday, I began to find beauty in myself.

By the weekend, I saw beauty in the world.

I work full-time, so my weekends are precious.

Normally, I try to spend that time doing something meaningful.

I might go to a spa to recharge,

visit a museum,

go to a movie or theater,

clean the house thoroughly,

go bouldering,

meet friends,

or study English or Dutch.

Not because I feel like doing those things,

but because I’m afraid that if I don’t, I’ll lose my life’s meaning.

Even when I’m tired, I force myself to do them.

But this past weekend, I paused my pursuit of “a rich life”

and devoted myself to sleep—to healing my bruise.

I prioritized sleep above all.

And with every time I opened my eyes,

the bruise seemed to have shrunk more and more.

Like magic. Like an eraser.

But the bruise didn’t matter anymore.

The change inside me was far bigger—and far more important.

After sleeping deeply and sufficiently, I was calm and happy.

I no longer found everything annoying.

I no longer felt burdened by friends, family, or coworkers.

In fact, I felt joy in being able to talk with them.

My life actually became richer.

What is happiness?

It’s a big question.

Because sleep is “unproductive,” people treat it like an add-on to waking life.

They think: 

To be happy, I must work. 

To work, I must sleep.

But because no one defines clearly what “happiness” is,

we chase after everything.

We pour our time, money, and energy into the pursuit.

Those without enough resources feel miserable and anxious,

sometimes even becoming insomniac.

Material satisfaction has no end.

Even if you gain it, it’s never guaranteed to last.

Happiness slips away.

But—if sleep is happiness,

then life is actually pretty easy.

If the secret to happiness is just sleeping well,

you don’t need much else.

All you need is what it takes to maintain a comfortable bed.

And judging by my experience this past week,

everything else seems to follow naturally.

If you just sleep well,

your mind works clearly.

You can be kind to others.

Even alone, your thoughts are cheerful.

Your body naturally feels good.

And maybe your productivity increases too—

at least enough to maintain a decent bed.

The moment I slammed my jaw at that hammam,

God showed me the true path.

Maybe I should start a new religion.

The Church of Sleep, Sleep, and Sleep.

Well, anyway—

I’m sure you all have your own struggles and worries.

But if I could offer just one piece of advice:

Are you sleeping well?