I was chatting with a friend about Thanksgiving. Neither of us find the holiday relevant to us, so this year we're going for something health-oriented (somewhat off-theme, but we liked it). I'd love to have lots of traditions, but I didn't grow up with them. If you found a tradition later in life, how did it come about?

I’ve completely eliminated the alarm clock from my morning routine for about six months. The biggest impacts it's had on my life are:

1. I’ve become a morning person.
2. I wake up feeling great and feel less sleepy during the day.

Becoming a morning person is a necessary side effect of not using an alarm clock because it requires the body to naturally wake up early enough for work, school, or other regular obligations. Although I’ve historically enjoyed staying up late, the brutal truth is that all humans require a certain amount of sleep, and this can't be consistently fought without an alarm clock.

The best part about eliminating alarm clocks from my life is how it has affected my day. It’s not a hidden secret that good sleep habits translate to:

1. Better mood
2. Increased energy levels
3. Clearer mind
4. Improved overall health

I can confidently say I really do feel all these benefits. In the end, it's not to any real surprise. The alarm clock interupts one of the most important cycles of your body, and so it only makes sense to leave sleep alone so it can do what it needs to do.

How I Transitioned to Natural Sleep

Once I decided to try this experiment, I created a simple plan to implement it. Before this life change, my sleep schedule was from around 1 am to 8 am. So, the first thing I did was set an alarm for the target time I wanted to naturally wake up, in my case, 7 am.

The first night resulted in 6 hours of sleep (1 am to 7 am). My body needs more than that, so by the time 11 pm rolled around, I was ready to fall asleep. It was initially tough to sleep earlier than normal, as I felt there was still time to do things, but I let my body dictate my actions and went to bed without an alarm.

That night, I slept for about 9 hours due to sleep debt. I missed my 7 am target, but it wasn’t a big deal. After that, with my body reset, I simply aimed to continue to sleep around 11 pm, meaning I was in bed by 10:30 pm. The pressure of needing to naturally wake up before work was enough motivation to forgo the later hours of the night and continue heading to bed early.

Now, I’ve settled into a great rhythm of going to bed around 10-10:30 pm and waking up around 6:30 am. What’s great is discovering how much sleep my body naturally needs (8-8.5 hours). No more trying to "hack" my body with things like miserable polyphasic sleep experiments. I know what my body needs, I succumb to it, and I’m rewarded the next day.

Some Caveats

What worked for me won’t necessarily work for everyone. Each person and their situation is unique, so results will obviously vary. Some unique factors for me are:

• I’ve always been able to fall asleep quickly, which might be due to consistent sleep deprivation, regular exercise, or both.
• My only dependent is a dog, and she doesn’t mind sleeping in a bit in the morning.
• I always sleep with white noise, which helps block out sounds that would normally wake me up during the night.
• My work schedule is consistently 9 am to 5 pm.

One final note: I still use alarm clocks for special occasions, such as early morning flights. Although I could probably wake up naturally for them, without an alarm set, I would probably wake up in the middle of the night stressed about the possibility of missing my flight.

Try It Out

This change has been significant enough in my life that I frequently recommend it to friends. I now honestly believe that the alarm clock is the single worst thing the wider population willingly inflicts on themselves. If you’re willing to eliminate the morning alarm clock from your life, I would love to hear how it goes. Good luck!

His wife is murdered in the Bataclan terror attack in 2015. Shortly after, Johannes Baus meets Floriane Bernaudat,
who's fiancé was also killed there. They become a couple, and have to learn what it means to love another.

Written by Katharina Render, last updated Nov. 18th, 2023. Published in the "Christ & World" section of DIE ZEIT.

Translated by @Grzmot

When the breaking news from Israel on October 7th pop up on Johannes Baus' phone, he instantly remembers the moment when he was lying on the floor of the Paris music club Bataclan. Islamist attackers shot into the crowd of people, killing 90 attendees, his wife among them. He felt "incredibly cynical morderous energy" in the room, on the 13th of November, 2015, he tells today.

He can feel this murderous lust today, through his smartphone, when the algorithm puts the Hamas hunt for people into his timeline. Videos of young women and men, who like him then, just wanted to dance, murdered, raped, or kidnapped. Johannes Baus defends himself against this hate. The hate of the terrorists now, and even his own. Under no circumstance must he give in to the hate. Get up and live instead! But how are you supposed to do that, when one of the in total 130 victims in the Paris terror attacks in the Bataclane, the Stade de France, bars and restaurants, was the one for him?

In the past four years as a reporter I've talked multiple times with Johannes Baus and visited him in Paris. When we last video-chatted, I asked the lawyer, who's found his home in the french capital; how does one believe in the good of people, when you were forced to live through the most vile thing that people can do to another? When a stranger, because of his upside-down view of religion extinguishes the love of your life? When he makes jokes with his accomplices during the murdering? When you have to bury your wife in her wedding dress, which she wore five months earlier? I wanted to understand: How does hope work?

Two months after the terror of Paris, in January of 2016, hope stands in front of Johannes Baus. She is wearing the same hat like his late wife Maud, and knows like no other, what he has been through. She has lived through the same thing. Floriane Bernaudat, then 27, lost her fiancé Renaud in Bataclan. He was 29. The first bullet hit him in the back, the second entered his groin and exited at his jaw. It was five AM when he died, alone in the hospital, while Floriane Bernaudat was driven to the police with other survivors and a relative of hers called every hospital in the area. When
the relative was finally told, that there is a patient who fits the description, he was already dead. Twelve years they were together. Almost half their lives. Two weeks before the attacks, she had chosen her wedding dress.

And suddenly, there is this stranger, who in a Facebook group for mourners, comments on her post about Renaud: "Your message has touched me deeply, I lost my wife in Bataclan. If you want to meet..."

The so-called Islamic State quickly admitted responsibility publicly, and celebrated the killing of innocents as a "holy raid" against the "crusading France". Almost 700 people were wounded by the terrorists. Floriane Bernaudat and Johannes Baus did not suffer any bodily injuries. But the wounds, that the barbaric murder of their loved ones cut into their souls were so deep, that neither of them imagined, the lawyer nor the headmistress of a private university, they would ever heal. How could they keep on living? The day they first meet, they talk about these thoughts. Till the owner of the restaurant closes for the night, that's how they both describe it.

From a surface perspective, a romance begins to blossom here, how only Hollywood could tell it. It would maybe even be too cliché for the authors of TV soap opera scripts. Too much does this story rely on the "all ends well" trope. It's because it's not true. Not quite. Their love does not grow quick and strong, they are not made for one another. The backdrop of their tale is no idyllic Cornwall, but a Paris, where violence and murders still happen.

Guilt, jealousy, trauma

It's no innocent love between the two, like you could see it on the pictures of the two with their earlier partners. Of photoshoots in tranquil forests and colourful sunglasses on vacations. Floriane Bernaudat and Johannes Baus didn't make their love easy. There was guilt. Jealousy. Secret dreams of their dead partners. Lingering trauma. The fear of being the second choice. At some point they looked at each other and honestly asked: What keeps us together? Are we two sinking survivors who just want to drown together, or do we want something more?

The something more is now five and two years old and doesn't know or understand, what brought their parents together. The first daughter the two survivors called Bérénice. A name of ancient Greek origin, which means: The one who brings victory. The second they called Madeline, "The Illustrious".

When the terorrists storm into the concert of the Eagles of Death Metal, Baus and his wife Maud are standing close to the entry. The tickets were a surprise for them. The 37 year old Maud honestly wasn't in the mood, didn't know the band and was tired from work. In the subway still, she was unsure if she wanted to attend. But when she's there, she really likes it, is how Baus tells me. A happy grooving together. Until they hear the bangs. Like fireworks.

Screaming people run into their direction. He searches for her hand and doesn't find it. He jumps behind the bar and in a break of the shooting, runs out through the backdoor into the open air. Later the police tells him, where they found Maud, who was shot in the heart by the terrorists: Supposedly, she was next to him behind the bar. When you ask Baus to go through it by the minute, he remembers many details, for example a fan which he found and "armed" himself with, until he realised just how stupid that is against an assault rifle. To this day the idea of Maud being right next to him does not fit into his head. His memory of her blanks the moment they run and his hand doesn't reach hers. He believes that
his brain is protecting him from the thought that he could have left his wife behind.

That Madeline and Bérénice "the victory-bringer" were born, is a victory over the doubts. The choice to give in to hope, despite everything. Hope for a world, where the girls will live well. A second yes to life, and the opposite of what drove the terrorists of Paris, who sought their salvation in the next life and some of which blew themselves up.

One of the main culprits of the attacks was later caught in Belgium: Salah Abdeslam, 34, convincted to life in prison. Baus and Bernaudat didn't really follow the court case. They didn't want to give the individual any more attention. It's important that the judiciary is doing its job, they say, but at the same time they understand that the case isn't going to give them any satisfaction. A warmer idea to them is the thought that "our story inspires someone or gives them hope, especially to someone who is afraid of terrorism or the general tragedy of life. That would be wounderful. But it would be even better, if a potential suicide-attacker, who is in danger of seeing a nihilistic act of self-destruction as the best alternative to life, became inspired to see the positives of life and take small steps in a good direction."

This point of view is the result of a long process of therapy and intense work with the human condition. It's an attempt to escape the role of a victim which society attributes them with. Johannes Baus doesn't want to be damned to mourn forever. His thoughts are shared by the journalist Antoine Leiris, who put a similar impulse to paper after the attacks. His wife also died in the Bataclan club. The journalist wrote, addressed to the perpetrators: "I will not give you the gift of hating you. Even when it is what you want. To answer your hate with rage would mean to give in to the same ignorance that made you who you are."

"Make it stop"

Floriane Bernaudat likes this perspective, she tells today. If she liked it back then, when she was hiding in the little space between ceilings, which she climbed to from the wardrobe? The biting glass wool which was supposed to isolate the space, but didn't protect her from hearing the execution shots below her in the hall? When she was one of the last survivors to leave the building, and the policemen told her to look up into the air and not down at the corpses? At Renaud's funeral, when she hated the musical arangement, which her late husband would not have liked?

Both find it difficult to give general advice, for example to the survivors in the middle east. Part of the fact is, they explain, they wouldn't know where they would be without each other. At the same time they agree that love by itself is not the answer. But their example shows, that even close to the wounds on their soul, new moments of happiness can grow. Though they point out, it would be a lie to say that it is easy to remain humane after having witnessed so much inhumanity. Just recently a Algerian colleague of Bernaudat's told her that it's beautiful, that she is able to treat him as a Muslim exactly the same how she treats everyone else. There are many people in France, and not just there, who after the terror of 2015 cannot tell the difference between members of a religious group and islamist fanatics.

They want to teach their daughters that. Of course they should also know, that the "first loves of their parents" existed. But now it's too early. For everyone. That's how Baus and Bernaudat think of it. That's why there are no pictures of Maud or Renaud in the little house in the Paris suburbs, into which the family moved four years ago. But what remains still, is the close connection of the parents to their dead partners. The children have four grandmothers and four grandfathers. Sometimes, Floriane says, she feels like Maud and Renaud guided her and Johannes together from
the afterlife. "They are in our hearts, and our hearts told us, what is right".

In October 2017, almost two years after the attacks, Johannes Baus and Floriane Bernaudat marry. At the wedding, they announce that they are expecting their first child Bérénice. Bernaudat wears a dress which is very different to her first wedding dress. The best man of the wedding, Mehdi, was Baus' best man at his first wedding too. "Maud gave me a part of her gentle soul", believes Johannes Baus. Floriane got a little tattoo of a fox on her arm. In French, "renard" means fox, which almost sounds like Renaud, who is now forever under her skin.

She still sees that last image of him in front of her eyes. How he's dancing happily on the Bataclan stage and waves at her, wanting her to come closer. Floriane is standing a little bit away. She's tired and needs a short break, and it's hot on stage. Then the attacks happen, and pure chaos bhreaks out. Shots, screams, blood everywhere. A man, hit, falls on top of Floriane and begs for help. When Floriane sees the shooters reload, she crawls out from under the injured man and runs to an exit. With approximately fifteen others, one of them a mother with a young son, she ends up in the wardrobe for the musicians. A man takes her hand, "I don't want to die!" Someone manages to punch a hole into the ceiling. Bernaudat climbs into it, crawls over electric cable and fibreglass wool, until she can't anymore. She hears phones ring and shortly after shots ringing. She doesn't dare calling Renaud, but writes a message, "I'm in the ceiling, where are you?"

Johannes Baus sits next to Floriane Bernaudat on the couch. The kids are colouring in princesses. He caresses her arm, the arm with the fox tattoo on it. They talk about the Hamas attacks once more. And to the question, what gives hope in the pitch black. During therapy, the myth of the phoenix rising from the ashes played a big role repeatedly. To gain strength even when facing complete destruction. Maybe that's what it's about, says Bernaudat.

Johannes Baus finds his words in songs, which he composes. Music has always given him much. The bass of his songs plays Matt McJunkins, 40, the ex-bass player of the American band Eagles of Death Metal, who were standing on stage on the 13th of November 2015. McJunkins hid with others, in part injured ones, in the room behind the stage and survived there. Baus asked him some time ago, if he wanted to teach him. Now they make music together.

In the song Chaos Rebuild Baus writes in English how it feels when the world falls apart. When all security is lost and you are thrown into chaos. What do you do then? Then, the song goes on, it's your duty to build a new world. In the chorus of the song, Baus gives us a picture of his new world:

Make it good

Make it just

Make it clean

Make it gentle

Make it stop

We found out recently that we are expecting an addition to our family and are incredibly excited! It's still early on so we are not trying to get overly excited knowing that things can happen in the first trimester, but would like to begin educating ourselves on the pregnancy process and parenting.

Am curious and would love to hear from everyone what resources they found most helpful on these subjects. Pros for evidence based sources that manage to not be overly dry. Send me what you got! Any general advice you have would also be greatly appreciated :)

We’re finding it increasingly difficult find meaningful time to spend with the kids. They’re teens but still want to do stuff together and yet with all the extracurricular and us working it’s hard to just be together. They also have their own preferences and sometimes it’s hard to find common ground.

Was hoping to find some inspiration and ideas. Thanks in advance.

My son got invited to a birthday party, which will be at a candy shop. I don’t know the girl other than she’s 7 and likes dogs and crafts. Any suggestions would be appreciated! Budget would be under $20 or so.

Edit: thanks so much for all the suggestions!

I graduated in the spring and spent the last few months at home with family. I'm hoping to find an apartment/job in a major US city working as a legal assistant or paralegal.

I've never rented before, so I have questions, but due to circumstances related to the ones pushing me away from staying at home any longer, I don't have any parents or older siblings to ask for help, so I'm hoping to crowdsource wisdom here. I have specific questions, but also happy to hear any general advice for someone renting an apartment for the first time.

Some relevant context:

• Studio apartment is nonnegotiable. I don't know anyone I trust enough to be my roommate. If that weren't enough, I'm one of the only people still wearing a mask and trying not to get COVID, so it's gotta be a studio for me to be able to relax.
• I'm looking for a walkable neighborhood and good public transit in addition to affordability, so really looking at Chicago and Philly right now.
• I love to cook, but I know studios often have really lackluster kitchens. Hoping to find one with a usable amount of counterspace.

Those questions I had:

1. If you offer to pay a landlord the cost of the lease in full, is it typical for the landlord to waive the requirement that you provide proof of employment, or if you asked them to waive that, would they be likely to say yes? I would really like to take some time off, and coming home was intended to be that, but toxic family means I've just been stressed the whole time, so being able to get a place without needing a job right off the bat would be a fantastic setup to make sure this new start goes well. (If I save up part-time earnings for the next 2-3 months, I'll have enough to pay a lease on a $1200 studio in full, furnish it with the necessities, and feed myself.)

2. Recently I realized that when apartments are listed as unfurnished, that means no bed or mattress either. (I kind of see now why futons are a thing.) How do people usually address this issue? Do you buy a mattress and bed frame with the expectation that you'll take it with you whenever you move out to the next apartment?

3. Since I don't live in the city I'll be moving to, I most likely won't be able to see the apartment in person before committing. Any particular ideas on how I could handle this or what I should be wary of? I've heard of services where you can pay someone to show up to a tour and video call you so you can follow along (https://www.gandertour.com/). $50 doesn't seem too steep, but I don't know if that specific service is trustworthy, or if there's a cheaper or simpler way to deal with this.

Those are my questions, and like I said above, any advice not 100% related to these questions is welcome too!

How visible is your lifestyle to others in your life (personal, professional, etc)?

Have you found love recently?

What do serious relationships look like for you? Is marriage on the table, or is it contrary to polyamory?

I'm hoping to spark discussion of the topic, since I haven't seen it mentioned much on Tildes.

I don't necessarily mean your exact kinks, more the overall psychological and emotional aspects.

I just had a conversation with my girlfriend about this very topic, discussing why we liked the things we do.

Having thought through it more thoroughly, I find that giving up power makes me feel desired and objectified by the dominant in a safe environment, which is a feeling I seldom get to experience as I'm neither an 7+ out of 10 or in otherwise position to attract that kind of attention.

In addition, always feeling like I have to control every situation I'm in and often feeling somewhat anxious if I'm in an unfamiliar environment, this sort of play also allows me to safely relinquish control.

How about you?