I can hardly remember a time when my Dad was not “up with the birds”. He always told me he did his best thinking in the morning, and early on I discovered we have this in common. Come sunset, I’m nearly useless, but give me a Bible, a journal, and a pen at 5am, and I’ll give you a day with amazing potential.
When I was a new Momma, waking up first became quite a challenge. Back then we lived in a tiny New Englander with creaky wide pine stairs that were painted barn red. As Emily caught her last tidbits of slumber, I made it my job to drift noiselessly down them.
Snatching the morning before she got up was my one chance at retrieving my scattered wits. So early each day, I plotted my path, studying each step for the soundless places that wouldn’t give me away. I stepped always at the edges where the rise was its strongest, and by the time I was three steps from the first floor, when I got that far successfully, I was tasting the victory.
My prize: ten minutes of morning.
“Does it get any better than this?” I would think.
Until that most precious voice would pop the silence.
“Mummy, I awake!”
The habits that make our life feel strong and sound underneath our feet are the ones we have tweaked for their highest functionality and comfort – both ends are the same. The rhythms that work get chiseled to fine features in a life that stays steady when the struggle is real.
Finding out how a friend keeps her balance is a great conversation for a road trip to a movie or a ride out for ice cream. When things are bright and crisp as air. Or after a crazy hard week, when the light at the end of the tunnel feels dim.
Because we always need reminding that there’s something we’re doing right.
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