SLeep.

Or perhaps more accurately said, rest, is that thick dividing line between meditation and zoning, a correct answer and a flawed answer, a peaceful dinner with the family and the Valentine’s Day Massacre. As a matter of fact, I’m writing this entry in my 49^th hour of waking…so, this should be an interesting ride.

In terms of study, resting—and especially sleeping—are necessary components to retention. I have no interest in being preachy here, so I’ll just give you LSAT students a basic test for measuring whether or not you should take a nap: Formal Logic. FL is the unequivocal part of the LSAT that really is as simple as black and white. Once you get to know FL and can diagram statements instantaneously (FL is a skill you should be learning from Day 1 of LSAT study), you can gauge your lucidity by the accuracy of your FL diagrams. Here’s an exercise: if your FL diagrams are suffering, and either your coffee intake is up or your friends start calling you an asshole, you should end the night early and get 9 or 10 hours of sleep.

                        FL DIAG SFR                                                            ENE

                                and         --------------------------------->        and

                   MORE COF or ASS                                                    9 or 10 hrs

I’m not going to diagram the contrapositive because this entry has taken me well into my 52^nd hour and I’m wondering about the coherence of the above diagram, anyway. I’ll leave that for you to judge. Hmmm. I’ve lost my place. So how about we talk about losing our place?

No. Never mind. We can’t do that because I’m discussing sleep this time around. (Get it together, me. They’re all counting on you. Don’t let them down. Not like you did in seventh grade…)

Pardon me.

Sleep. As far as meditation is concerned, sleep is actually a more negligible element than it is for the LSAT, or any other type of study. (We can argue about this—but let’s not.) Sleep is needed for focus of the meditative practice, but sleep’s absence can be an additional opportunity for growth in something like meditation (for all you pedants who are going to mumble that meditation, especially that of the Zen variety, categorically denies the goal of anything…ugh. Who am I kidding. I’m the only one reading this).

For example, were I not now in the back of a car moving at 80 mph in the American Southwest with a full bladder, and I were to begin some sitting meditation, from past experience, I could anticipate having a rather wild time in sitting still, and counting my breaths. I would sweat, itch, think about different sexual positions, and even invent creative ways to pay other people’s bills without them ever finding out it was me. Though my bladder might be full during this hypothetical meditative session, this disconnected, break-neck-speed (but otherwise coherent) mind-rambling during the session can be credited to an acutely unfocused brain. When the student of the LSAT or Zen tries to work in anything beyond the 24^th hour of wakefulness—the hour in which the nerves are reduced to a bloody, raw mess—the student is actually operating in a headspace where only war veterans and mothers of triplets live. The only other time the student will have experienced this space, unless the student fits either of the above criteria, is when out celebrating some person’s birthday or ringing in a Friday (…or Saturday, Sunday, etc.). The student is working in a violently foreign mental arena. So actions like counting to ten and sitting up straight while in this grated mental environment are diametrically opposed to the more environmentally appropriate action of drinking the rivers of oblivion. However, if you’re going to work under these extreme conditions, meditating is really the only thing that might benefit from your stubbornness. Logic Games and reading are a waste of time.

So is constructing a blog entry.

I’ll leave you with an update: I’ve lost count of the hours and I did finally empty that bladder o’ mine. It’s now early morning and I’m standing in a dark kitchen with my computer plugged into the wall while it rests on a dark Formica countertop. I’d rather be sitting at the table or in a some chair, but the cord doesn’t reach. Now that I think about it, I could easily have moved a chair toward the computer. Damn.

So. I’ve lost my place. I’m going to sleep. Not on the Formica.