If you know me even a little, you know I am not an early riser. You may also know that it takes me a long time to be fully awake in the morning.
I may appear to be awake. I am out of bed, moving, sipping my coffee, walking and talking (well, if you call "mmmm," or grunting, talking). But that doesn't mean I am actually awake. I used to be able to be fully functional at work without being totally awake. Is it any wonder I truly adore retirement?
So now I will really confuse you: I actually love early mornings.
There is nothing better than arising and feeling ahead of the game. I almost feel like I'm cheating: up before I have to be, watching the dark become light, night become day.
When my children were small, the wee hours of the morning were my only precious, alone-moments. Preparing my coffee pot the night before, it would quietly perk as I donned a bathrobe and brushed my teeth. Then I would tiptoe into the living room for a bit of time to read or stitch in perfect quiet.
Sometimes I would sit at the kitchen table, careful not to let my chair make any noise as I scooted it up to the table. There I would write a letter, pay some bills, look through a photo album, or, more likely, make my list of things to do for the day. I could hear my children's quiet breathing in their nearby bedroom.
Today was one of those rare days when I was up and fully awake before daylight. I almost get a high from it.
This morning it was just Catrina, the cat, and me. I watched her stretch and look at me oddly as if I were infringing on her peaceful sleep. I opened my devotional meditation book, taking the time to not only read it but absorb its calming message of the wonders of nature.
I don't know how one changes their body clock. But if I could change it so an early rise was a daily occurrence, I surely would.
No matter what the day holds, I feel so much better prepared. It really makes for a great day.
Ah, sweet serenity.
