Early morning spring sunshine spreads a golden glow over the trees in my backyard, shining on the grass, calling on the colours to appear more vibrantly than yesterday. The birds interacting and visiting cheerily, energetically, a contrast to the sleepy quiet of the houses. Buildings dark and closed while the yard and street and lake and town bathe in light.
I woke up too early this morning at 5:00 am. It’s now 6:30 am. Tired from a busy week I need more sleep, but I can’t resist the magic of an early morning. I can’t resist the space and time to write, the opportunity to indulge in words for no reason other than they bring me joy. I can’t resist the possibility of insight, a reward for showing up to a page with no expectations.
Over the last couple months my writing practice has been more intentional and consistent. Early mornings most days. Ten minutes or two hours. I feel like a writer again.
Writing is my morning sunshine. Happiness sparked by frequency, not duration. Benefits from even just a short burst of sunshine each day.
I’m learning that when days are too full and distractions are too many, writing is a necessity not a luxury. Daily writing practice grounds, connects, and uplifts. It slows the frenetic pace of thinking about too many things at once. Attention narrows, breathing slows, body relaxes, and the moment, each word as it appears on the page, like a breath, is all I need.
For creatives, the time to create must be protected. Pushing through the urge to leave it behind for things that seem more pressing, I battle the guilt like it’s a Jabberwock and so far I’m winning.
Time often causes tension for those of us who write in stolen moments. Deep cravings for long stretches to dream and create. Regret for the quick passing of time while we sink into our novels and poems and plays. A blink and then it’s time for work and family and chores again.
And yet I’m grateful that each morning, I bathe in sunlight. Soak in words. Write the now. Delight in the morning sunshine, even for just a moment.