Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Lately I've been getting up ridiculously early for me. I'm really a 7:15 a.m. person; but for the past week, I've been waking up at 6:20 on the dot. No alarm clock, of course. No early morning children, barking dog, or meowing cats. I just wake up.
It wasn't too long ago that I thought waking up at 7:15 was ridiculous, and yet I couldn't seem to sleep in any longer. It's hard to believe that I used to (many, many years ago) sleep in until 10 or 9 or even 8 a.m. I can even remember summer mornings as a teenager, waking up to the sound of motorboats and waves lapping the shore and the smell of lunch cooking at 11:30 a.m.
But I don't miss those days because mornings are so perfect. I love to have an hour or two all to myself. I love to smell the morning and to watch the sunrise over the flowerbeds and the mountains come into focus. I meet a group of friends at 8 a.m. two-three mornings each week for a run, and we're all back to our homes by 9:00. Other mornings I accomplish all kinds of virtual paperwork and even have leisurely time to read blogs and even comment.
Who would have imagined, all those years ago, that the mornings hold such joy?