The (getting to) sleep phenomenon.
This past month. I went through a phase of contact-lenses-in post-porn-machine laundry-nest crashing after I quit my recent NGO job. Last night (glasses on, thank Dog), I decided to sleep on the couch. It makes me feel like "Busy Daddy".
I guess the WAY we "fall asleep" has a lot to do with how we want to imagine ourselves in waking, we ask ourselves, however briefly and subconsciously, "How do I want to awaken?"-- sometimes I feel it's important to wake up naked, other times (like last night), I needed to feel like Busy Daddy and wake up fully clothed and ready to smoke-drink-coffee and make a list of things I was looking forward to and not looking forward to in the day.
One thing that my dear friend and ex-boss found was really helpful and important in her sleeping ritual (NEVER in a totalizing way, but rather as a tool, as a technique, as a MODE of sleep-preparation), was to get into her bed-ware (flanel nightgown probably) and get into bed and WRITE IN A JOURNAL. Rather than ending your day/evening by EXPOSING yourself to more information and images, why not take the time to let out some of your feelings and thoughts onto a page, in ink, (I know you are a calligrapher, Sensei). The cursive is an imitation of the winding roads of the mind itself, the page will be there, adorned by your words and doodles when you awaken, eyeballs unfettered by contacts (if you decided to remove them), body clad (or not) with materials (or lack thereof) of your choosing.
The fact that your crash-tual (crash ritual) has become a moment worthy of reconsideration is also significant. It represents self-care in the liminal state between waking and dreaming: it is the closest we get to freedom and slavery as resolved dualities within us. It is involuntary self-care.