To Sleep, Perchance To Dream
..., but the crucial element would obviously be the wondrous technology enabling your body to be suspended in mid-air while inside. This would be a delicate operation: it is clear to me that the machine should not create pure weightlessness, otherwise one might spend all of the night bumping against the roof of the chamber, which is less than ideal. In essence, though, I would climb in at the end of a long day and settle in before the lid would gently close to create basically a sealed environment. Gradually the atmosphere and gravity levels would be changed through a pressure mechanism, and ever so gently my body would float upwards to an optimal point. Presumably the machine would calculate my body mass when I first enter and lie on the floor, and would adjust accordingly so that it would float in the middle and neither ascend nor descend. There are certain components to my invention that would make sleeping in this chamber a remarkable atmosphere, all of which would be controlled from a flat panel on the floor of the pod. The inner surface would be a unified series of microscreens covered by a soft synthetic material. These would permit me to create an artificial nocturnal environment of any variety, shade and colour – darkness being relatively important in the broader scheme of sleeping, I could have a 360 degree panorama of a Caribbean beach, the desert sky at night its phenomenal blanket of stars, a forest glade, or the immensity of space itself with the galaxy surrounding me. My capsule would have the capacity to recreate sounds or harmonies specific to a given setting: waves lapping on a shore, zephyrs rustling in leaves, ideal temperatures, and so forth. In other words, the goal would be to create an atmosphere purely conducive to rest, relaxation and stimulation of the unconscious. There would never be an issue with awaking; the visual programme could be set to have the sun rise along with bird song (or even a violent storm if something more dramatic was required after a big night out) at a certain hour. There is an element of Rousseau’s desire for man to return to a harmonious relationship with nature that underpins all of this, despite the wholly artificial substance of the ambiance. I believe that our minds and bodies respond more positively to the essential beauty and purity of nature, so the idea of being at rest in untainted surroundings is that the individual would be refreshed more than usual by sleeping in my creation. Another question that engages my mind is what it would feel like to sleep in mid-air. It would surely take a while to become accustomed to the habit and not resist the unnatural state of being free from gravity. (Our class exercise of lying upside down on the ground during the woodland walk was fascinating to me, not merely from the point of inverted perspectives, but also the sense of being attached to a ceiling on the world and what would happen if I were to be detached from it with no physical laws to restrict me.) Setting aside the notions of improved posture and the fact that you’d never have to worry about being too hot or cold under the covers, in my mind it would be the most stress-free experience imaginable. Everything maintained in stasis; no need for physical movement and action. Floating in water gives us a hint at that peacefulness, of course. Nonetheless, I try to imagine in a less human and concrete way what it would resemble. An Andean condor hanging on air currents for hours on end above the jagged peaks and canyons… one of its feathers drifting to earth on the most idle of breezes… the wind itself, seemingly free from natural laws. For some it...