I’ve been a morning person for as long as I remember. I’ve never liked being rushed in the mornings, so I used to wake myself up early so I had time to get ready for school – and watch the cartoons before I left.
As I grew older, I would use the early morning time to study for tests. Then I began university, which meant more than 2 hours of travelling each day, and I would get up early to make sure I could catch one of the sporadic trains that would take me there.
But then, even when I didn’t have anywhere to go, I would still wake up early. It was like I had a little bell ringing inside me, telling me to get up, get moving, there’s a day going on out there without me. Sometimes I’d wake too early, and I lay there in bed, things running through my mind faster and faster until I have to get up and do something just to slow the thoughts down a little.
When I was pregnant, I was often awake early, getting up in time to see tendrils of colour stretch across the sky. I’d spread out on the couch as sunlight slipped through the uncurtained windows and across our living room.
Now, I often do a feed early in the morning and find myself unable to get back to sleep. I take myself to the couch or the dining room table, a cup of hot tea in hand. I watch as the sun fills the sky, and I listen to the deep, regular breathing of my husband and my son. I take a little time for myself, happy to just be before the day really starts.
How do you feel about early mornings? What time of the day do you keep for yourself?