The Perfect Time of Day

My most productive time of day tends to be the early morning. Always has been.  I’m what you call a “morning” person.

I wake easily at 4:30am, on a late day 5:00am – I pour my coffee and start writing. It’s this perfect kind of quiet that fuels me. It’s not just the absence of cars or the lack of people talking in the distance, it’s more about a pure nothingness that seems to be the start of something…  a new beginning, a new day, a new possibility that inspires me.

I’ve always been this person. Even as a kid. Back then, I’d wake up early and run out into the street in front of my house and stand under the still dimming light of the streetlamp and start to dance. I loved that time – I remember it as if it were yesterday – there’d be no cars, no movement, no sound anywhere –  and yet my thoughts were so perfectly clear I could hear the symphony as I danced along the gravel “floor”…

I do love the quiet. My dream would be to live on a ranch close enough to the city, but far enough away to not hear the daily sounds of trucks going by and neighbors doing their thing – kids jumping rope or the gardeners blowing leaves.  In the city, even the quiet of the day is still not really quiet at all. There’s a natural hum that happens during each day, different depending on the time – that too is preferable to pure country living, where crickets and cicadas are a type of noise I’ll never get used too.

Then there’s the ocean.  Oh, how I love thee – but not to live by.  Near the ocean is fine. 2 miles is perfect in fact.  But to sleep by the ocean waves, although beautiful and fierce, would be the same kind of pain to me as the crickets and cicadas – disturbing and out of sync with my need for that pure nothingness quiet that starts my every day.

I don’t know how it ever happened. I don’t remember the day I became a morning person.  I don’t think you can force yourself to be one or the other – it’s just an “IS-ness” I do suppose.  Maybe, if you’re born in the morning, then the morning is your time?  I have no idea. But I was born in the early morning and that just makes perfect sense. 

So, yes, I love the early morning sunrise. The glow of all things new. It’s my favorite time of day. My most productive too.

Carmen

My Murder Scene

black-coffee-2847957_1280This morning I woke up and in my groggy state I headed to the kitchen and clicked on the coffee maker.  Standard procedure.

As I waited, half-asleep, I noticed on the wall across from me a tiny figure slithering it’s way across the wall.  My eyes widened and somehow now fully awake, I walked on over, grabbing a napkin from the counter and snatched the tiny insect from the wall, killing it instantly.

I could hear the coffee peculating — it was almost done.  I grabbed under the kitchen sink counter for the “409” <– a spray “bleaching” cleanser of sorts (I have no idea why they call it “409” by the way, something I should look into at some point), and with yet another napkin, I sprayed the disinfectant  and wiped clean the murder scene.  It’ll be like it never happened.

The coffee was done.  I discarded the evidence, washed my hands and poured my coffee.  Cream, no sugar. My morning back to it’s normal routine and I started reading the paper.

At some point into the article I was reading,  I realized that before my morning had even really started, I had killed another living thing.  How horrible is that?

I sat back in the chair and remembered an acting class I took when I first started performing.  We had been asked, “How would you play a murderer?”  –  Everyone went into all the cliche answers of what they thought might motivate a murder. Novice actors thinking way too deeply about it and announcing how they’d have to do so much research because they themselves would just have “no idea” what it would be like (everyone making sure we all knew how “good” a person they were and how inconceivable it would be to have to play such a horrible person).  The conversation always fell way into that category of a mobster or hard core criminal  – cliche of course – but I remembered sitting there thinking:  If you’ve ever killed a mosquito, you can play a killer. The murder? That’s just the action –  knowing who the killer was, their childhood, what they do for a living, all of that is the character. To play any part, of any person, you need to KNOW who the character is, the background.

Of course, that’s exactly where the acting teacher was going.  The class seemed stunned to learn they’d all “killed” at some point in their lives.  In a lot of ways, it’s a horrible thought.  I started feeling bad about my little slithering morning guest who I killed and cleaned up after all before putting my first cup of coffee to my lips.

Morning Cofee

Truth is, I’m sure I’d do it again. I’m not a fan of insects of any kind IN MY HOUSE. I have no problem with them out in the world, I understand their value in the Eco-system of life, but just as I wouldn’t walk around intentionally in a Lion’s den, I expect slithering little insects to stay out of my “den”, no matter how inviting it may be… or suffer the consequences.

Yeah, I’m still half asleep. I need another cup of coffee.

Happy sweet day.

Carmen

With My Morning Coffee

If you look at your social media feed when you first wake, please make sure you start your day with the possibility of joy.  I follow this beautiful soul on Twitter — and seriously, every morning, with my coffee, I find myself starting the day with a smile.  

 

If you don’t know who Lin-Manuel Miranda is… trust me, you should!

Hamilton.

(I only follow the beautiful ones….)

Please start your day with the possibility of joy.  It changes everything when you do.

Carmen

 

 

 

 

Morning

I’ve always loved the morning.  The early morning grey, right before the sun rises.  I’m up before the birds most days.  My natural instinct.  To rise before the sun – not sure why, but it’s been that way since I can remember.

I used to rehearse early in the morning too – dancer me.  I miss those days.  Running that early just isn’t the same. Now I write. But yes, I love the sweet morning.  The quiet, the “preparing-ness” of it all.  It’s always a new beginning.  Always a possibility.  Something miraculous could happen when you begin again.  Maybe that’s why I always wake at the crack of dawn – eager to see how it all might unfold. 

Beautiful sweet day to you.