Mornings, Are They Upside Down or Right Side Up?
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about mornings. To me, mornings have always symboled a reset button. The sun will be out again. There will be enough light to fund a new adventure. More time to walk alongside the sun. All the things you can’t do past dusk, things the evening ran out of. In the morning, I can wake up and chase after them.
Yet, it’s also so tempting to waste a morning. To sink further under the covers and chase the last remnants of a dream or stay wrapped in a pair of arms. Maybe it’s to linger next to a coffee pot, a window, or the dogs on the couch. Or perhaps you’d rather mold into a chair on a porch and listen to the birds. It’s so luxurious to fold yourself into a morning in these ways. Rather than chase after something, to succumb to the comfort of slowness.
In B&W
On the one hand you have black, on the other- white. Another symbol, one of my usual internal dilemma. My catastrophic debates. I could be productive. I could wake up at 5am, go on a run, do all the chores I normally push away, write extra passages, read extra pages, exedra, exedra. Or, I could choose to lose myself in a moment, to allow the romantic in me to steer the ship towards whichever pleasure captivates her attention for the day.
It’s all a balance. Both options serve you in moderation or whatever bullshit I’m supposed to say. I do love productivity, I do love to push myself- that high you get from success. But at my core, I’m a wanderer most of all. Even with the clearest of minds, I’d still choose to float my morning down a birdsong ravine and take a dip in the sun.
One day I’ll find a way to tie my romanticism to success. Not in a gross or unfortunate way that means the magic has to take a back seat. Just in the way that I want both without having to sacrifice the strength of either.
