MORNINGS

Iam loving mornings now. And that’s something I never thought a happily nocturnal creature like me would ever declare. I discovered (and readily accepted) early in high school that my peak hours were late at night until the wee hours of the morning – that’s when I studied, did my homework, read my favorite books. Naturally it was an ordeal getting up early in the morning but I submitted to that as a mere consequence. Besides, that was probably the only downside (aside from eyebags) and like I always said then, it was nothing youth could not handle.

I enjoyed the stillness of the night, so to speak. The quiet was my partner in productivity, it was my cohort in the quest for efficiency. I remember so many nights during the exam weeks of my school years when right after dinner I would sleep, setting my alarm clock at around 10 p.m. I would then wake up and study until I had to leave for school at 6:30 a.m. It may not be a habit I would want to see my own children adapt in the future but it very simply was a system that worked well for me. Needless to say, that routine did not go without my parents’ gentle but firm protests.

Up until three weeks ago, I still was a creature of the night. Sleeping early in my book meant being in bed by midnight at the very least – I am no insomniac, by the way, and I can actually achieve shut-eye bliss early if I really wanted to. The thing is, I had gotten used to and actually liked doing my daily chores at night. It is not all strange to find me organizing the closet, rearranging the contents of my drawer, doing paperwork, surfing the Internet, writing letters, wrapping presents, yes even practicing my flamenco planta-tacon combos at the oddest hours just before the sunrise. The night was my day.

Well, all that is a thing of the past. At first, I resisted (and somehow resented) the whole early morning bit. I felt disoriented, displaced even. After initially struggling with a terrible case of jetlag that was supposed to have faded and normalized by now I decided to submit meekly to its onslaught, assuring myself that it will not be anything permanent anyway. How much longer can it last? What I didn’t quite expect though was that with acceptance would come a change of heart.

Now I am absolutely smitten by the kiss of the morning sun, to-tally in love too with the whole morning bit. I love the hustle and bustle of daily household chores being carried out; the plants being watered, the sight of the dogs being bathed, the scent of breakfast cooking, the cars being washed. I find myself awake early enough to watch all the morning shows, even at times asking for the papers long before the newspaper boy has delivered them. I now especially appreciate the large windows our home has because it allows the sun to wash the whole area in brightness. Hey, I even discovered that pancakes, bacon, and eggs really do taste better when eaten during the breakfast hour. Another upside? I can actually avail of my favorite sausage McMuffin at McDonald’s, one of the strictly breakfast fares that they only serve till 10:30 a.m. Mmmmmmm, it has actually been years since I last enjoyed that.

Contrary, too, to my earlier belief mornings also have the stillness and the quiet that I had so quickly written off as a valued night exclusive. And somehow my day not only seems longer it’s more fulfilling, too. I not only have enough time to be with the people I love and do the things I love, I can fully experience both at a leisurely pace. No longer is rushing through the day a given. The thought of a whole morning ahead grounds me, even giving me the chance to pick up a new hobby or continue the one I left off. It is lovely to soak in the rituals of the morning and I now embrace this small but welcome change of pace. Little did I know that it would take something as constant and as unassuming as sunshine to transform deeply ingrained habits, stubborn hearts, and harried minds.

It is poetic how the early morning breeze starts to heat up with the rising of the sun, how nature seems more vibrant and vivid when awash in its golden glow. Mornings are beautiful, they even smell beautiful. Like a child with a new toy, I thankfully embrace and relish the gift that I have so long deprived myself of (what a shame).

Thank God for small, everyday blessings. Life is beautiful.

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