I’ve been rising early lately, walking the long halls of the morning, not certain where to put myself. My thoughts are what cause me to pace. Invasive little buggers that hijack me on my way to my pre-dawn pee, unsettling murmurs with spikes and spears, finding the softest places in my heart—piercing the pinky folds where wonder, love, and moonbeams are hidden. I never wear my breastplate to bed—that brassy brassiere that guards my heart—I lay it aside in slumber; after all, a girl needs to rest unencumbered by fear.
These early risings have caused my schedule to shift. What I normally do at 10:am I find myself doing by 8, making my day seem like a long train with endless cars rattling by—leaving me waiting for that bright red caboose to end the sentence and lift the gate. Oh wait a minute. That doesn’t sound inspiring at all. It makes life seem like an endurance test of sorts.
Most days rise and fall with events and thoughts, some self-inflicted, some random— the inner and the outer workings of me coming together to create a life consisting of unanswerable questions, nagging have tos, and yes, bliss. Of course the bliss part of my people pie is relatively small—a sliver of sweet aside a platter of boiled liver and cabbage, and somehow I know this is my fault, but hello! I could barely deal with a 17-hour day and now I have 19 hours. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful; but can I really be trusted to carpe diem when I can barely vacuum the carpet?
I’m certain that these early risings have been sent as loving teachers to guide me on yet another divine adventure of how to live joyfully in the moment without judgments and expectations, and I am grateful for everything, no matter how mushy the texture or bitter the taste, but I hope I learn whatever lesson this is quickly.
It just seems I can never get away with anything. It's like my father's the principal or something. Some people skip through life with clean socks and new sneakers, zippidy-doo-da-ing through their day. Why do I always have to have a lesson on something? Oh wait…that goes into the unanswerable questions pile.
Please Universe… send me some fun tests next time, like proving to you that winning the lottery won’t ruin me. I don't mean to whine but I need my sleep!