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Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Waking Early

Waking Early

It’s dark.  It’s always dark when I wake in the mornings.  I am a light sleeper, waking easily to the chirp of a cat walking by and saying hello in the night, hearing the clink of the mailbox as the paper is delivered, listening to the back-up beepers on the garbage truck, noticing the ruckus in the sounds of my bed mate snoring. 

Even when there aren’t sounds to wake me, I wake up at all hours.  The cat snuggles too close to my head for comfort.  I need to visit the bathroom.  My thinking is traveling too quickly to allow sleep.  I wake up easily.

I like the darkness.  I like the softness of being unable to see beyond my window panes, the feeling of being surrounded by woolly night, cradled in the arms of unseen possibilities.  There is a sense of the unknown and of being in a cocoon of darkness, of excited wonder at what the new day will bring, uncover, tear open and reveal.

Even if it is too early and still dark, I’ve learned to get up and begin the day rather than to stay in bed and fret about not sleeping.  And there are advantages to being awake before anyone else.  The house feels peaceful, softly lit with every creature asleep except for me. 

If I step outside, I appreciate the night and the darkness.  The stars shine brightly.  I can see them better without the light pollution of cars going by.  The moon is lovely, ethereal and round, misty and comforting of late.

The early morning allows space for my own quiet self to begin the day slowly, with silent meditation and fragrant coffee, with focused attention to every detail…the lights of the city sparkling through the darkness, the neighbours’ homes all asleep except one, the welcome cosiness of that one neighbour’s lit windows, the changing sky as sunrise tips the edge of night from black to indigo, then blushes into dawn.

It’s dark.  It’s early.  It’s peaceful…a good start to my day.

The words are copyright ©Carol Steel.  The photo is used with permission from Wikipedia commons images.

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