quiet beginnings

I have finally accepted the fact that it’s okay that I’m not a morning person.

I wish I was.

I’m just not.

I’ve never been one of those ‘slap-the-alarm-as-I-jump-out-of-bed’ kind of people; the kind that hit the ground running and have their day planned out well in advance! The more my day is planned out in advance, the more stressed I can become! I need flex! Spontaneity is my friend. =)

It’s not that I can’t be a morning person. (When one has small children, one is a morning person whether they want to be or not!) When I taught school, I had to be a morning person. It just wasn’t my preference! But now I understand why all those mornings were excruciatingly hard for me . . . I wasn’t a morning person by nature, or design.

I need quiet in the morning. I think I’ve always been this way; I just haven’t lived in synch with it. Thankfully now that my kids are older, most mornings are my own! Yea! I’m finding that if I can schedule my day to begin after I’ve had a quiet, slow beginning, then all is well with my soul!

I know it sounds like a luxury – but even 20 minutes alone before the morning buzz can be all that’s needed. (It’s never as much as I want, but even a little quiet-alone-time is better than none!)

Being more of a contemplative by nature, it’s as if I have to enter each new day by pondering my way in. Once my eyes are open, I think about the day ahead and what it holds. I observe what type of day has already begun outside from the slip of space between the blind and the window frame. Radiantly bright or dull and dark? Raining? Snowing? I want to know before I step out of bed!

A few days ago, I made myself a cup of coffee and sat on the family room couch, looking out the picture window. The morning was overcast and particularly dark. The house was hushed. My husband had gone much earlier and the kids and dogs were still asleep. Such a satisfying feeling – a quiet home; calm and peaceful.

I sat on the sofa sipping my coffee, listening to the house’s hum, enjoying a quiet beginning. The birds began to gather at the feeders beyond the window – first a solitary Goldfinch, joined momentarily by a Junko. Before long, the staccato chirp of the Cardinal alerted me to his arrival and I glanced up as his mate alighted on a branch close by.

There was just a slight breeze, unlike the forceful wind of the day before.  Nothing was stirring – outside or in.

My coffee mug was now empty but I lingered a little longer, not wanting to disrupt the stillness – the gentle peace – that feeds me and prepares me for the day ahead.

Most mornings I spend downstairs in my little room – a space all my own – sitting in my comfy chair, feet resting on a foot stool. It is a small space, cluttered with books, but it makes me happy to sit and read and think and write. I could spend an entire morning down there if it weren’t for all the tasks begging my attention.

Whether I enjoy my quiet beginning downstairs or up in the family room, the day eventually beckons me, calling me away, and I leave my little solitary space to enter the “real” world of activity that awaits. It helps to know that the stillness will be there again for me tomorrow.

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One Response to “quiet beginnings”

  1. Jan Lane Says:

    Love it kindred spirit;)

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