Almost all of my posts this month have been at night, and they have been later at night. But I’m not a night owl. Not by any means. I am a morning riser, an early bird. I savor the quiet moments when the world is still asleep but the morning star is about to rise. I have a simple ritual to my day. I make my coffee (it’s own little ritual as well), read and then write. I don’t write for the Slice of Life Challenge in the morning. No, I write for myself. Maybe its a journal maybe its a writer’s notebook, I don’t know, and really it doesn’t matter. I write whatever it is that comes to my mind. I must do all this, coffee, read, write, before I start my day. Its a way to let the new day slowly infuse with me, like tea in hot water…though I don’t know if I’m the tea or hot water.
I’ve seen both sides of the early morning hours. In my early twenties, I saw the early morning as a final destination, walking home from a night out with friends. We would marvel at the hush about us, the absolute calm. In that quiet, we owned the world. We were the wide-awake dreamers, the sun gatherers, the shadow catchers. Now, in my mid-thirties, I see early morning as a genesis, the onset, not walking home, but waking it. I marvel at the peace and serenity that each new day brings. In this quiet, I own the world. I am the shepherd, the sentinel, the watchman.
The coffee is made; now it is time to read and write. It is time to welcome the new possibilities in this tranquility.