"She refused to be bored, chiefly because she wasn't boring." Zelda Fitzgerald

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Morning Glow

I am stepping back into my preferred rhythm again, up early with the larks...or I would be if the larks weren't gone just now to warmer climes. I was a morning person as a baby and a little girl. I used to get up in the morning my eyes popping open to the nutty, warm smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen. I would hustle downstairs and sit on his lap while he slurped coffee through his mustache and split an apple with me, smeared with spoonfuls of peanut butter. Morning was a special, quiet, private, delicious time of day. I got up because my body told me to and because it felt right and I enjoyed the warmth and quiet peace it brought. Somehow I slipped out of the habit, and by the time I was a teenager I remember making my Papa hound me every morning to get me out of bed for high school. Sometime in my sophomore year I remember deciding suddenly to try deciding to get up cleanly and early again, no more sludgy, grungy, rough mornings and no more forcing someone else to haul me out of sleep. And that was it...the next morning I snapped upright when I was called and I was up bright and early for the rest of high school. Since then I have waffled back and forth and sometimes slid back into late rising but I always feel worse for it. Times like now when I take my teenage vow on again and creep out of bed before everyone else I feel so right and at home. The morning feels like a small, warm gift and a glowing sunrise like this one makes feel confirmed and warmed on my little path.


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