Mornings are second chances. Another day to try to get things right.
Perhaps that’ why mornings feel so good to me. The earlier I am up, the greater the potential for getting a firm grip on the day. That, of course, requires a discipline in the evening that I seem to lack lately. Early days can’t happen if the night lasts too late.
Living with a bunch of night owls makes it tough to go to bed at a “decent” time. I don’t want to miss out on anything or anyone.
Then I see a sun rise, like this one and I’m reminded of that second chance feeling. Perhaps I need some sunrise photos displayed near my bed, to coax me under the covers.
There’s so much I miss in a morning when I stay in bed. Besides the sun rise, there’s the first songs the birds call out, the coolness of the air, the fresh feeling that early light bestows on every object.
And the quiet. The quiet in the morning, especially on a weekend morning, settles me in a way little else can.
My life overflows with noise. One of the most precious commodities I know is stillness, quietness, silence.
That alone should remind me that I want, no, crave, an early morning.
A second chance waits for me tomorrow. Until then, I’ll see what I can do with the one I got this morning.