Why Humans Should Hibernate (and Why I’m Starting with Myself)

The first morning in London, I woke up to cheerful voices on the other side of the wall. “Good morning, Mummy ji. Good morning, Papa ji.”

I jerked awake and sat upright on a bed that clearly had strong opinions about comfort, and none of them were favourable.

After a few seconds of frantic self-orientation (Where am I? Who am I? Why am I awake?), I reached for my phone on the bedside table.

7:15 a.m.

My mind immediately went into crisis mode.

It has been years since I have woken up this late. Clearly, something had gone terribly wrong with time. Or with me.

I tiptoed to the large windows and pulled the curtains aside, expecting at least a polite hint of morning. Instead, London stared back at me exactly as it had the night before. Streetlights glowing, buildings twinkling, darkness stretching confidently into the distance. It felt less like morning and more like time had forgotten to turn up for work.

Bewildered, I wondered how, until just a week ago, children had been going to school at this hour. In my childhood, I used to catch a 5:30 a.m. school bus in winter darkness. But that was 5:30, not 7:15. There are rules to these things.

That, in essence, was how the trip began.

For the next fifteen days, I tried to understand time by looking out of the window, a method I do not recommend outside tropical regions. With every new location, daylight followed different rules. My body, however, remained stubbornly loyal to its internal constitution. Dark equals sleep.

Edinburgh was the most brutal of all. Even at 9 a.m., there was only a vague suggestion that it might be daytime. The sun, clearly, was on a sabbatical.

This is when my long-held belief returned with renewed conviction. Human beings should hibernate.

Almost every creature understands the wisdom of retreating during winter. Resting, replenishing, conserving energy, and returning renewed when spring arrives. Every creature, that is, except humans, who decided productivity must persist regardless of sunlight, temperature, or sanity.

Nature has been our greatest teacher. Everything remarkable we do in technology, medicine, and science is essentially imitation. Nature already did it first, and usually better. Somewhere along the way, we forgot one crucial lesson. Rest is not a reward. It is a requirement.

Recently, I stumbled upon an Atlantic article about a small village above the Arctic Circle in northern Norway. The town proposed something radical. Abandon the clock altogether and live by the body’s rhythm during months of continuous daylight. The author tried it. The results were fascinating.

You can read, or listen, to it here:

https://www.theatlantic.com/health/2025/12/sommaroy-norway-island-time-clock/684894/

Yes, I listened to it over a cup of hot tea. I am taking things slow with reading these days. The AI-generated voice lacked warmth, but the ideas landed anyway, and nudged me into doing what I am doing right now. Writing.

Living without time has always been my cherished dream. Waking when my body asks me to. Eating when I am hungry. Walking, reading, writing, working, without racing an invisible tyrant on my wrist. Lingering in neighbourhood cafés. Returning home when it feels right.

And at the very top of this dream list sits hibernation.

Anyone who has known me long enough knows this. I firmly believe humans should hibernate for at least two months every year. No meetings. No alarms. No “quick calls”.

While I was lamenting this, Suva mentioned something interesting. New Year was originally celebrated on the 1st of March, with the arrival of spring and new life. Sensible. Logical. Botanical.

The Romans once had only ten months in their calendar, starting with March (Martius). Winter was considered a dateless void, a period unworthy of accounting. Only much later were January and February added, and in 1582, Pope Gregory XIII formalised what we now know as the Gregorian Calendar. Understandably, the Gauls responded with, “Those Romans are crazy.”

You can read, or listen, to it here:

https://romanticon.substack.com?utm_source=navbar&utm_medium=web

Which brings me to my conclusion.

I will shortly be starting a GoFundMe project for my annual hibernation months. Even if you side with Pope Gregory, I urge you to support my cause. For something entirely organic, sustainable, scientifically questionable, and deeply me-friendly.