Sometimes that’s easier said than done. We’re addicted to white noise to get us to that lovely state of sleep.
Once upon a time, when we lived on a busy street, the traffic introduced us to white noise. The whoosh and hum of tires on asphalt lured us to slumber. It also drowned out other really annoying noises such as ticking clocks, rustling sheets, sniffly noses.
But then we moved to a traffic-less neighborhood and the silence became both deafening and disturbing. Every little sound was an interruption and an eruption. And there was no sleep for us.
Enter “sleep machines.” You set them to the white noise you want, the volume you want and when you push the “on” button, sleep comes easily. Reliably. Soothingly.
Until, of course, our most recent one. Like our new kitchen timer and our smart televisions, it oversteps its single purpose in life and causes more trouble than it fixes. Sleepless nights are now not uncommon. How can this be?
In a nutshell, there are too many options.
How many hours of noise? Two? Three? Six? Twelve?
Which noise? Wind? Rain? Waves? Fans? Spa? Waterfalls? Trains?
How loud? Low? Medium low? Louder? Much louder? Really loud?
The old one was” set and forget.” The new one challenges. It regularly demands answers to its many questions.
And its buttons? Did I mention that the buttons are barely larger than the head of a pin? The opportunities for error and frustration cannot be overstated.
And sleep becomes elusive.
Image: Thanks to Basil, for providing a sense of scale.