Only recently have I fully realized and accepted something my mother could have told me when I was a baby: I am a morning person. At the age of seven, I used to get up earlier than anyone else and turn on the radio (large silver box, with many knobs) in order to listen to shows only my siblings likely remember now. Nowadays, I get up as soon as I wake up, even on weekends, so that I can enjoy that quiet, peaceful time like no other. The best mornings are ones where I don’t have to be anywhere until later; I can linger, luxuriate in the slowness.
Here’s how those mornings go:
- Wake up. I have an alarm set for 7am on weekends, but sometimes I turn it off, and sometimes I wake up before that. I try to get up early lately, because if my child wakes up at the same time as I do, she fills the apartment with singing and questions and a constant stream of chatter, and much as I adore her, that can be a bit difficult for me to deal with first thing…
- Make coffee in my Keurig, and head to my chair in the corner by the window. It’s my favorite place in the whole world…and also a bit of a cave, which I find quite interesting.
- Do my morning pages, as described in Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way. This is a recent addition, and it’s a ritual that’s proved quite helpful so far – I look forward to it. This takes about 30 minutes.
- Start drinking my coffee (usually after warming it up again…I’m terrible about that) and reading. The end table next to my chair is simply there to hold my books and my coffee. At any given time there are 4 to 6 books there, along with Bella Grace magazine, issues of Entertainment Weekly, and a couple of other books that I read more slowly. Oh, and my journal and my gratitude/happiness book. Right now Steve Jobs is the one I’m focusing on, and it’s quite fascinating.
- Get kiddo breakfast when she asks, maybe make more coffee, and keep reading. Maybe get on my phone and putter around a bit, or text a friend or two.
- Eventually, get up, do some useful things, decide to write a blog post about my mornings, and probably head back…
Nearly every morning, while sitting in my chair, I feel so much joy – for our little living room, for the view of rooftops and tree branches gilded by sun, for the perfect chair to curl up in, for the variety of coffee mugs, for my kiddo’s singing, for all the pieces that mean I am loved that come up as I write. Joy.