I wrote this in the wee hours of the morn.

With the exception  of some soft music coming from the CD, and the soft songs of the wind chimes as the wind blows just right, all is quiet.  This is the quietest part of the day; although I’d prefer to spend it in dreamland like everyone else, instead of writing this entry through blurred and crossed eyes, as my body mind refuses to rest.  

In what seems like another lifetime, I would never see this hour of the day.  I was blissfully asleep and at the crack of dawn, I was up–no alarm necessary, raring to go. I particularly loved the early morning right before the sun rose.  You know that magic morning silence in your home, just before the hustle and bustle of another day begins.  Outside, the newness of the day is evident in the feel of the air, the chirping of the birds, the foraging animals, and ultimately, the first rays of sun as they shine through the crystals hung in our Eastern-facing bedroom window.

I always felt newly invigorated and ready to begin again–yesterday’s mistake gone and forgotten. Yes, as though God, in granting me this new morning, has given me a do-over to get it right this time. 

Because my sleep schedule has changed so drastically, I haven’t felt the same in such a long time and I truly miss it. The night is not mine–not when I feel fully alive and in connection with all that is. I want my mornings back, but I guess that I’ll have to start by giving in to the wonders of the night.

Blessings, peace and love,