There is an awkward moment between waking and sleeping that comes to everyone eventually. Anyone over the age of 23 knows the scenario - where it's too early to get up, but too late to fall asleep again. Where you fight the reality that another day is about to begin, comforted in the thought that you can stave it off for a few more precious moments while you lay in the delicious quiet of a cozy bed.
I have a lot of those mornings. Pretty much every morning, actually.
I know people, I may even be related to a couple of them, who embrace the opportunity to rise and shine. They feel excited at the prospect of squeezing in an extra few minutes before rushing out the door, not wanting to waste a moment of the precious day on indolent laziness.
I do not rise and shine. I drag and scowl. I resent the ticking clock, dreading the moment when I can no longer justify lying in repose. Instead of squeezing in extra moments of doing, I eek out the last moments of peaceful inaction.
Not, mind you, that I rush around accomplishing things even when I do get up. After taking care of my chores, which in my case means feeding my aquarium fish, taking the dogs out, and getting them fed, I get my coffee and find my second happiest spot on earth, the end of the sofa, computer in hand, ready to catch up on all the important news of the world from the overnight hours. Or something like that. (Does seeing photos of friends' grandchildren and cute dogs on Facebook count as news?)
But every once in awhile, I awaken early, and take the chance on getting up before the sun rises. I go out with the dogs and it is peaceful, the world still in restful slumber before the busy day begins. In that moment before the reawakening, there is a peace I never find at any other time of the day.
We lead busy lives. We have obligations, expectations, responsibilities. But for a few short hours, it is all put on hold while we renew our bodies with sleep. And while the world sleeps, there is a calm in the universe.
It is a unique time of day. No one will call or text, there is nothing pressing in that has to be done immediately, there are no expectations. It is a simple, uncomplicated time of day, good for coffee and dog petting and sitting quietly before the fire.
I don't get up before the sun shines often. It is not really my time of day. (Frankly, the older I get, the shorter my time of day seems to be. If I keep this up, it will soon be the five minutes between eating lunch and starting my afternoon nap.) But experienced only occasionally, the change in routine gives me a new perspective, an opportunity to refresh and renew in a whole different way.
I deeply appreciate the moments when I can disconnect and be still. Although I am sure each generation has thought so, the pace of modern life is increasingly frantic and frenetic, and I cherish the time spent at rest. At the mid-point of this journey through life, I have gained perspective, and see equal value in doing and being.
While I spend my days doing, it is in the early morning hours that I can just be. They are precious moments of time, fully loaded with awareness and appreciation for the simplest of life's pleasures. A cup of coffee, a burning fire, cozy sofa, peaceful darkness. It is all the more treasured for the rarity of its occurrence in my life. But on those days, it is a gift to myself.
Sometimes the best things in life really are free.
