Gratitude

A Man Said to the Universe 

By Stephen Crane

A man said to the universe:

“Sir, I exist!”

“However,” replied the universe,

“The fact has not created in me

A sense of obligation.”

 

 

I can't quite remember where I happened upon this poem but it's one that has stuck with me in the years since. The message resonated with me from the first time I read those lines. A message that in this world we alone our responsible for our lives. It it up to us to make sure we survive, to get the things we need and want, and to find happiness. Once we are adults, we have no right to expect anyone to be there to help us out regardless of how rough life may become. And yet, time and time again that is exactly what people have done for me. 

There is so much in my life that I have been truly blessed with starting from the moment it began. I was born in one of the greatest countries in the world, I was born at a time were I, as a woman, had rights and the ability to make my own life choices, including the opportunity for education. I was born healthy and into a family that could afford to give me everything I needed, and quite a few things that I wanted.  I grew up in one the most beautiful places on earth, a place whose beauty still fills my mind every time I dream. I was able to go to college, I've been able to travel the country, see most of Canada, and had one European adventure with the promise of more to come in the future. I have never been homeless, so far have not yet suffered any serious injuries, I know the joy that only pets can bring, and am never without a book to read. 

But by far, the greatest and most wonderful gift the universe has given me are the people in my life. I grew up never doubting my parents love for me. I have two sisters who I would take a bullet for in a heartbeat. I have a best friend who has been by my side from the day I turned 2 (and would have before that if my mom had let her). I have extended family and close family friends who have given me wisdom, love, gifts, and hugs every year of my life. When I left home and moved to Maine, I was taken in and helped in every way possible by friends. I met new people who adopted me into their lives and made my years in Maine ones I will forever treasure. 

This last year, whether my fault or no, I kind of screwed up in life. I was in a situation that try as I might, I could not get myself out of. If it had been just me, if the universe had decided everything depended entirely on me, I don't think I would have been alive much longer. It didn't though. Instead what happened was the gift of people who swept in and picked me up and gave me their strength so that I could fight a disease I was to weak to conquer on my own. My mom, my sisters, my best friend, various other friends and family members, and the treatment team and other patients at Mercy helped me to find my way back to health again. Without them I would be nothing. It made me think back to when my parents were sick, and all the people that seemed to come out of the woodwork to help us. I don't know how we would have survived those years with out the cards, the meals, the hugs, the help with vet bills, dog fosters, and hundreds of other ways we were helped.

Even this last week I've been blown away by how blessed I am. I could list a few hundred things that have happened but it's really been the last couple days that have blown me away. For most of this week I'd been doing pretty good. There were a couple things that happened early on that boosted my spirits and made the days less awful than they have been of late. I think maybe because of that I let my guard down, and yesterday the disorder made a move that very nearly tripped me up. I felt my control slipping, the urge to restrict almost too tempting, and I was honestly scared how the day would end. When I got home I checked my mail and was surprised by the sight of an unexpected package inside. It was from a fellow patient at Mercy, a book she thought I would like and a letter. I could feel myself growing stronger with each word I read, and marveled at that package showing up the exact moment I needed it most.

Today it felt like every hour I happened upon a moment where I had to stop and take that second to thank the universe for sending a particular person into my life. From a comment made by a staff member at the animal shelter, to the "Thinking of You" card I got from my beautiful grandmother, followed by the hug from a friend that I saw this afternoon. I had asked my sister to send/loan me her copy of Game of Thrones season 2 and that came today along with a beautiful time turner Harry Potter necklace that was so unexpected I almost started to cry. I got a surprise package in the mail from my best friend, and was gifted a bag of organic apples by friends in Lisbon Falls. 

I don't know what I did to make the universe decide I was worthy of so much love, but I am so forever and eternally grateful. Without all these people my life would not be worth living. It is not just family and close friends that make me feel this way either, but others with whom my interactions, as small and insignificant as they may appear, leave me feeling richer every time. Whether it is the deep love given by my mom and sisters, letters and laughter sent by friends, the always perfect coffee made by the staff at my favorite place, or coming outside to find that a complete stranger has scraped the snow off my car (and on one occasion placed a small flower on my windshield), the universe has given me more than I ever could have dreamed for. Even on days that are so god awful I have a hard time breathing I can still remember all that I do have, and it is that knowledge that sees me through.

Thank you, each and everyone of you reading this, for making my life better than it ever could have been in your absence.

Snowy Saturday Delight

Anyone reading this knows I've spent the last couple weeks raving about my new found love for enjoying coffee in bed first thing upon waking. Well, this morning my eyes opened of their own accord well before my alarm was scheduled to go off. I knew I could have just rolled over, closed my eyes, and been asleep again within minutes but I was awake enough that the thought of coffee was one too tempting to ignore and I decided sleep could wait awhile and rose from bed. A few minutes later I was back, covered in blankets, and holding a steaming cup of coffee in both hands. The light coming in through the window was enough for me to read in between sips, and time passed quiet and peaceful. If this had been a weekday, or if I had any solid plans for this morning, I would have then thrown off the blankets and gotten started on my day. But today is Saturday, and my morning was free, so when I had taken that last sip I stayed in bed, watched cars pass by my window, and then closed my eyes and went back to sleep. It was awesome!! And now it is snowing outside and the world becomes more beautiful every second it falls. I love it!

A couple of years ago, in another attempt to write more, I decided that every day I would see what dictionary.com's "Word of the Day" was and write a poem with it. I was really good at keeping this up for about a month, and then kind of haven't done it since. Last night I stumbled upon those poems and decided I should probably start doing this again because some of them were kind of fun. I particularly liked this one:


The leaves blow in the wind,
with no choice on where they land,
guided by a force stronger than they can
dream of.

They know this, and do not
fight their fate.
Instead they dance,
knowing this is all they can control,
knowing they are beautiful.

We are like those leaves;
wrapped up in an energy beyond our comprehension.
Yet, we refuse to see that life is not ours
to command.
We struggle, and pretend, that we cull through the options
of our daily lives, that we alone direct,
our destiny.

We are so busy battling the impossible
we forget
to embrace the life we've been given, and
the power we do have.
By forgetting, we have lost our beauty.


We need to remember to dance.

Early Morning Poem

Some mornings without coffee simply wouldn't be possible,
There are times that no music is too rough on the soul,
An evening without books so much less enjoyable,
And days without cats are no fun at all.
No nights with the stars and the moon would bring sorrow,
A world with no mountains much less beautiful,
And a life without love, without laughter, not worth living at all. 



The rambling thoughts of a very tired mind at 4:40 this morning as responsibility warred with a desire to go back to sleep and spend the day in dreams. Responsibility won (obviously), but so far today hasn't been so bad, so I guess I'm kind of glad I woke up  :)

Happy Friday Everyone!

Hooray for Happy Days!

Lately I have written a lot about the days I've entered my own personal hell. Yesterday was definitely one of those. Today has been the exact opposite. I opened my eyes this morning and it was as though yesterday was something I'd read about happening to someone else not me. In that early morning darkness I felt nothing but peaceful content. A feeling that has, amazingly, stayed with me since. I was upbeat, happy, I felt greater joy in pretty much everything, and I was able to stay busy at work which was awesome! Quite a few of the things that made life bearable 24 hours ago, became downright beacons of sunshine today. They, and a few other things, made life kind of a spectacular.

-Coffee (obviously).My first thing in the morning coffee in bed has quickly become one of my all time favorite things in the history of ever. Then on my way to work I stopped by Starbucks for one of my beloved 5 shot americanos, and with every sip life just got better.

-Faelina's newest fascination is to attack the shadows on my wall, whether they're from cars headlights as they drive by, me moving around in the dark, or herself as she sits staring at the wall. She tries so hard to be fast enough to get them and is just so perplexed that she never succeeds. Watching her is rather amusing.

-Driving by an Alaskan license plate on my way to work this morning. I love seeing anything from home, and a spotting like this always makes for a better day.

-Shakespeare – today in particular it was his play “Cymbelline”. That man may not have had the most, um correct, opinion of women, but he sure could write and his plays are pure beauty

- Stuff You Missed in History Class podcast – I am huge podcast fan, and this one is my absolute favorite. I feel so much smarter after listening to them, it's fun to listen to, and at least one of them is as big of a coffee fan as I am (see Facebook status update from today)

-NPR – just saying it makes me happy. I love the reporters, I love the stories, I just love everything about it.

-Music – solace when I'm feeling down, and a true pleasure when life is good, I don't know what I would do with out it. I can listen to music and news at work but the company has blocked sites such as Pandora and Iheart Radio, along quite a lot of radio websites. So far though, they haven't cut off access to youtube. This is kind of awesome, because whether I'm in the mood for the smooth jazz of Marc Antoine, Dean Martins greatest hits, a new favorite like Scars on 45, or (in todays case) and old favorite like Kip Moore, youtube has it all, and for that I thank them.

-Winter – I am one of those weird few that just loves winter. I love the snow, the cold, the darkness...all of it. Last winter though I didn't. I was miserable. The cold hurt, the darkness made it worse, and the snows beauty did nothing to alleviate the pain. I thought I had lost that part of me forever. I hadn't though; I just needed to get healthy. I love winter now more than ever, the cold doesn't scare me now – it excites me! Granted right now it isn't that cold, and the rain we had on Sunday took most of the snow away, but it's still winter, and I'm so very grateful that I've found my way back to it again.

When I got home today I went for walk out in that cold. I went my usual way which brings me through the Bowdown quad (one of my favorite places in Maine), and when I got home I said hi to my kitties, changed in to pjs, popped dinner in the oven, and started writing. Soon I'll sit down to a dinner I actually want to eat (a very rare occurrence), get lost in a book that I've had so much fun reading and after get some sleep. Today hasn't been disorder free. The voices were still there, the negative thoughts ever present, but something (maybe the strength I got from fighting back yesterday) kept them at pretty good distance, and I was able to find some peace of mind.

Most of my days are not like yesterday, and they are not like today. Instead it's a mix with a few highs and a fair amount of lows, and me finding a way to muddle through it all. Mornings are usually my best times. I tend to wake up feeling pretty happy, focused, strong and semi-kind-of confident. As the day passes and I've been awake more, been eating more, and had more time to be aware of my body things usually get harder. The disorder gets stronger, the urges tougher to ignore, and any self-confidence in myself tends to roll right off a cliff into oblivion. Evenings are toughest and dinners can be kind of rough. Hopefully, days like today will be the norm, and ones like yesterday will fade in to non-existence. 

Until next time, whether good or bad, I wish you all peace, happiness, and love  :) 

Another Day Another Fight

Today has just been another one of those days. I woke up this morning feeling like I had gained 10 pounds overnight. I know that is utterly impossible and makes zero sense, but eating disorders make up their own logic and it's hard to ignore it when you've lived with their rules for so long. Work was particularly slow today; which is something I've grown to hate because it just gives me more time to think and more time for the disorder to twist my thoughts in a negative direction. As the day went on I felt increasingly uncomfortable, more full than I've felt in awhile, ever more on the verge of tears, and that weird pain I'd felt last Sunday came back with a vengeance so that all of me ached. For the thousandth – no millionth - time I just wanted to give up. I didn't though.

At Mercy, each morning we were given a check-in sheet and on it we had to write a daily goal, an affirmation, and coping methods. My first day there (the day of my assessment and then immediate admittance), a nurse handed one to me and explained the purpose of it. She said that often on a patients first day their goal was just to get through the day. I wrote those words then, and awful as it was I made it through. I may not have those check-in sheets now, but sometimes I do have a daily goal to just get through the day. Sometimes that is simply the best that I, or anyone else, can ask of me.

I did that today. I got through it. I went through work without a meltdown. I made it through the day without tears. I ate despite absolutely zero desire to do so. I didn't pull out a workout dvd to burn off all the calories I'd eaten. I did what was right for my body and my health, and refused to listen to my mind telling me otherwise.

So that was my goal. Now for my affirmations and coping methods. My affirmation today is “We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.” I made it through; I didn't give in to the disorder. As awful and painful as today was, I know that giving in to the urges just draws out the recovery process, and the fact that I didn't increases the chances that there will be less days like this one in the future. I am strong and I will fight like hell because I choose to be free of this.

When I wrote down my coping methods at Mercy they were usually as follows: breathe, listen, talk, read and write. With the possible exception of breathing, writing has by far been my saving grace at getting through this whole process. The posts on this blog, letters to friends, journals, poems and sometimes just a few random sentences on a scrap of paper have done more than I can say to keep me from losing it completely. Writing is my outlet when the thoughts and emotions -good and bad- are just too much to keep to myself.

At the beginning of the year I started a new nightly ritual of writing in my journal at least one good thing that happened that day, regardless of how awful the rest of it may have been. Most days I am able to come up with several things and seeing them written on paper helps me to feel better. Afterward, I'm usually able to fall asleep feeling a little happier than I would have otherwise. Today I'll share those things here. I woke up with Faelina curled up next to me purring (this usually is a daily occurrence but one that never loses its wonder). I woke up early enough to enjoy one really good cup of coffee in bed before really getting up, and I made one more really good cup of coffee to drink on my way to work. In the words of Maya Angelou “music was my refuge” and I was able to lose myself in it. I volunteered at Coastal after work and truly had fun while I was there. When I got home I found a letter waiting from my best friend and found extra strength in her words (seriously people send more letters – you never know whose day you'll brighten). I wandered up and down Maine street for a bit and the cold air helped erase some of the pain and bad energy. And in a little bit I'll curl up with my book and, through its pages, live in another world for awhile.

Today wasn't fun, but good things did happen. Today was hard, but it didn't kill me. Today felt like a step back, but it wasn't a failure. Today was a success, because I fought, and I will continue to fight until I win.

Playing With Words

Last week I came across this article (link below) highlighting 60 words that had once been considered common but today are not even found in most dictionaries. The writer encouraged us to "spread the word" and "adopt a few" in our daily conversations. I don't know if I'll very successful with that second part, but I had a few minutes to bestow a few words into a short poem. It's not very good, but I am happy to share the words with you all.


The amber eoan sparkles cotrinate on the eastern col
and I quoz, preterist, feel myself slipping away to dream of ogyian days,
when homes were treen with riprap paths,
and trantles held no consequence in our daily lives.
A darg could be quisquose and leave one begrutten,
or be one which secundates - a tucket of opulence to come.
Every bight, every hardwood, every floweret and petiole,
is it's own ledgit in the novel of your secret soul.
Thoughts of eras past leave me vitative; they bring me halcyon repose.

I wish you all a day of ineffable resplendence!

Huffington Post Article: Big Words Can Come in Small Packages

Mushing to Recovery

Two days ago after an emotionally rough day I got home to find a letter from my baby sister waiting for me. It wasn’t just a few lines on a card kind of letter either (although I do love those as well!), but a pages long epistle that detailed all her stories and adventures in school and life over the last several months. The last paragraph though was dedicated to me.

“You are strong! Don’t let that voice in your head tell you otherwise. It won’t be easy and you might end up taking a couple steps back at times. But just think about dog mushing. If you lose your team, what do you do? Do you give up? Nope, you get up and start walking down the trail after your team. Sometimes you find your team tangled on the trail, sometimes another musher stops your team for you, and sometimes a snowmachiner gives you a ride. So long as you keep fighting, you will beat this!”

~~*~~*~~

Last winter on my last night home Tori took me out on a midnight mushing run. I mushed for years when I was younger, but in all that time I'd never been on the trails at night. A few months before going home I got it into my mind that a night run was an experience I had to make happen. I could tell Tori wasn't thrilled with the idea, she agreed we could do it and I am so unbelievably grateful that she did. It was so cool seeing my baby sister in her element; how she so effortlessly handled the dogs, the lines and the sled. I loved her complete ease out on the trail steering and calling out commands like she's done it all her life (which she almost has).

In the heart of winter, Alaska is one of the most magical places on earth. The snow hangs off the trees differently than anywhere else, the mountains stand tall and glow in the sunset, and at night the deep woods offer promises of fairytales come to life. It was dark that night, and the time of the new moon, so stars were our only natural light. We both had headlamps though, which allowed us to navigate the trails just fine. As we flew down the trail, we raced past tall trees and curtains of snows that sparkled in the light of our lamps. It was like the world was made of diamonds. The cold night air kissed my face, filled my breath, and made me feel freer and alive in a way few things ever have.

Overall we went about 18 miles and stopped to rest about halfway through. We checked all the dogs feet for cuts, put jackets on them, and gave them some frozen meat to eat. Once they were taken care of, we settled into the basket of the sled with a down sleeping bag over us and our lead dog Screamer curled up between us. We talked about life, and watched the night clouds fade in an out. I'd brought my camera and we spent a good 5-10 minutes trying to get a half decent picture of us (we somewhat succeeded). I was so warm, and comfortable, and happy that I felt I could stay there forever. I did actually almost fall asleep a couple of times, but eventually we did decide it was time to head home.

At one point on our way back we left the safety of the trees and ran along the frozen lake. The clouds that night couldn't quite make up their mind on whether they should be there or not, and had temporarily disappeared yet again. I looked up to see the Big Dipper bigger, brighter and closer than I’d ever seen it before and was completely overcome by the beauty of that moment, my life, and the world. That night will forever be one of my favorite memories.

~~*~~*~~

I love, I so love, this new way Tori has given me to viewing my recovery. Right now it’s tough. My dogs are new to me, new to mushing, young, untrained, and kind of hate each other. We are making our way down the trail at a pace so slow it’s painful. Sometimes I have to get off the sled and walk; other times I need to just stop and take a break. Every once in a while I tip over and get dragged on my face for 3 miles. The trail itself is a mess, almost no snow, and full of rocks and ice. Trees stick out all over. Here and there a moose stands in the way. Most days feel like torture. There are times I do want to give up.

But when mushing you can't just give up and stop. Sure someone might come along and help you out, but they might not, and if you just sit there and wait well that's just an invitation to freeze to death, or starve to death, or get chased down by a moose and trampled to death etc... So you push on, and you keep practicing, keep training, and slowly - sometimes ridiculously at snail's pace slowly - the dogs start to get the hang of things. You start to find a smoother flow, the movements come easier, and the dogs become teammates instead of enemies. Your pace gets a little faster, you can go longer distances in one stretch, there are less tangles, less fights, less falling off the sled and losing your team all together. And then winter comes, snow falls, and the trail turns from hell into magic and before you know it you're flying.

Right now my recovery is like the early stages of a new dog team. The trail is my disorder trying to stop me at every turn. The dogs are the skills and coping methods I am trying so hard to develop. They do sometimes get tangled, the trail does often trip them up, so far I haven't fallen off and lost them completely (something I have actually done in real life with a dog sled team); hopefully, I never will but you never know. Right now I am still practicing and as long as I keep at it and don't give up, those dogs (my skills) will become strong enough to fly over any obstacle. And with time the disorder will become quieter, maybe even disappear completely, leading to a smooth, easy trail of dreams.

There is something else I get by being able to look at my recovery like I'm just out on another mushing run. I know from experience that some days you go out on the trail and everything about that run is perfect, and others you go out and nothing goes right. That is recovery. There are days that feel like hell, and others that are actually kind of ok. Now whenever I do tip the sled over or have to stop to break up another fight or come around a curve to find myself facing a moose (figuratively speaking that is), I can just think of that night a year ago and the happiness I felt then. I can remember how complete I felt, who whole I was, and know that I can find my way back to that again. I just have to keep treking down that trail!

“Beauty appears when something is completely and absolutely and openly itself.”

― Deena Metzger

I’ve recently discovered, and become a fan of, the website ThoughtCatalog.com This morning I came across the post titled “I Don’t Want to Make it Look Easy”. For anyone who wants to read it I’ll give the link to the article at the end of this post,  but basically it’s about a person who has decided to stop making her life look amazing from the outside. She said “I don’t want to make it look easy, anything. I don’t want to participate, however well or however poorly, in the charade of easy — of always being happy or of tying up the bad times up with a lesson I learned from it and aren’t I glad I’m so much better than that now?”. I felt I could really relate to a lot of what she wrote.

When I first started writing about my experience with anorexia it took me a long time to decide how much information to give everyone. As I wrote before, I shared it all because I thought that would help me most find total recovery. But another reason I did decide on sharing everything was to reject society's notion that we should hide our struggles and failures, and gloss over the bad parts of life. I say all the time that I have a wonderful life, that I’m one of the luckiest people alive, and that just about every day I experience at least one beautiful moment. But even though that’s true it does not mean I walk around in a constant cloud of happiness and peace. Especially now.

This last week and half has been a really tough one for me. My disorder decided to throw a party and it took every ounce of control to keep eating, to not exercise, and to continue facing whatever scared me. I managed to keep it together but spent the week walking around in a daze of uncomfortable self doubt and tears were no stranger to my eyes.  This last Friday I could feel my spirits start to lift, the voices begin to quiet, and almost cried with relief I felt so much better. I walked through my Saturday feeling a little lighter (figuratively that is) and more hopeful. That didn’t last long though.

I woke up yesterday unbelievably exhausted even though I’d gotten a full night sleep. Hours later after a hot shower, multiple cups of coffee, and a walk in the cold air I still couldn’t seem to wake up. What was worse, my entire body ached like I had just spent a day as someone’s punching bag. Not surprisingly I wasn’t very motivated to do anything and spent a good part of the day curled up watching TV. Thankfully while I felt physically miserable the voice of the disorder was quiet. I started to perk up in the evening but as the exhaustion and pain faded the disorder started yelling. I spent the rest of the night feeling out of control, forcing myself to eat in spite of the desire not to, and trying to ignore the voice telling me that I should spend today eating less and skipping part of my meals. I was hoping the shouting would dissipate over night but this morning I woke up with those same thoughts and feelings in my head.

I am so sick and tired of fighting, and I am so done with feeling like this. The only thing that is keeping me going right now is the memory of how bad things were in the deepest stage of the disorder. I don’t want to go back to that, ever.  Like I said at the beginning I know how good my life is, but while my life is wonderful there are certain moments, or even whole days, that just kind of suck. I don’t want to shy away from those moments any more than I want to ignore the happy ones, for they are central to who I am as a person. We all have days of happiness and periods of sadness, but society encourages us to keep quiet about the bad times, to keep them hidden from the world. We have so much pressure to excel at everything, to be perfect, to see the good in everything and it’s ridiculous.  If anything it is through our struggles that we have more to offer the world, because what we learn and experience then allows us to help when others go through the same thing in the future. And it is those same rough patches that make the happy times shine as bright as they do.

Despite saying all that I still would like to share something positive and thankfully I can, actually there a few things. The biggest and most important is that even with the sometimes awfulness of the last 10 days I haven’t slid into relapse.  I have found a recipe that makes cheese slightly less terrifying to eat which is a HUGE deal for me.  Last Sunday drove out to Bradbury Mountain for a short hike. I loved being out in the woods and the snow but about a ½ mile in the disorder twisted a fun hike into a workout. I so wanted to keeping going but I knew that doing so would give more strength to the disorder so I turned around and went back. Initially I did feel a little cheated out of a hike but mostly I felt so empowered because I had refused to let the disorder win that day. Last Thursday I stepped outside and wasn’t bothered at all by the cold. A few minutes later I drove by a sign showing it to be 10 below and I broke out into the biggest smile because a year ago that temperature felt like torture. And I am so happy to say I have found a way to have coffee in bed first thing in the morning every day since I first wrote about it last Wednesday.

I also have certain things in my life that have always brought me joy no matter what part if this journey I was on. I have my books, music, fleece pjs, cinnamon apple spice tea , warm blankets and my favorite coffee whenever I need comfort and peace. I have my ability to write whenever my emotions and words become too much to keep inside me.  I have my two cats that make sure I never go a day without laughing. I have my family and friends who surround me with love daily.

I know I wasn’t always like this, and I know that what I feel now won’t last forever (even if it sometimes seems that way). I know that fighting more now will make the days of full recovery come sooner. I know that what I am doing right now is worth it, that it will lead to happier, freer times, and that my life will be better off for it.


http://thoughtcatalog.com/christine-stockton/2015/01/i-dont-want-to-make-it-look-easy/

Early Morning

This morning I did something I don’t think I’ve ever done before.

It occurred to me one day last week as I was running late for work and rushing to make my usual coffee to go that, while coffee was definitely a major feature in all my mornings, it always came after me doing everything else first. During the week I’m always making coffee just before I leave for work, and on the weekends even if I have a lazy morning, I wake up and feed the cats, take a shower, get dressed etc… before making that first cup. Last week as I was pouring the hot water over the coffee the smell enveloped me and I wanted nothing more than to take my cup of coffee back to bed and drink it there with a book in my hand. I wanted to know what it would feel like.

Yesterday driving home from work I was suddenly so utterly exhausted that I’m surprised I made it home without an accident. I took a short walk to see if the cold air would wake me and it did for a bit, but it quickly became clear to me that I would be in bed sooner than normal. For most of last year I woke up at 3am so that I could get in a morning workout. Most people would say that is crazy, and it is, but the even crazier part is that I actually liked getting up that early. Despite my night owlish tendencies, I have always loved those very early morning hours where the stars are still out and the world is still quiet. But because staying up late for me is as easy as breathing it’s next to impossible to go to bed early enough to get a decent night sleep and still wake up that early. Since starting the program at Mercy I’ve learned the importance of a decent night sleep and when I went back to work I change that number on my alarm from 3 to 4 (especially since workouts are still not allowed for awhile). But last night when I was setting my alarm I remembered my thought from last week, and since I was going to bed early, decided to see what it was like to wake up at 3, not to exercise, but instead to lazily enjoy the morning with coffee in bed.

When my alarm went off this morning I opened my eyes to find Synge curled up on my left and Faelina on my right, a most excellent way to wake up. Tired though I was I did remember my goal for this morning and only lingered in sleep a couple minutes before standing up and walking out to the kitchen. It was actually almost easy to do because I knew what to look forward to, and a few minutes later I headed back to my blankets and pillows with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. I did some writing, played with Faelina for a bit, and just sat looking out my window with the heat of the cup warming my hands and awakening my spirit. I sipped, and thought, and let myself relax and enjoy completely the quiet peace of the moment. And though the coffee I brew myself will never taste as good as when someone makes it for me, I think it was the best cup of coffee I have ever made.

When I was done, it was easier for me to get up and start my day. Since I had woken up so much earlier I was able to take my time instead of rushing through everything. I even had a few minutes to work on a painting I’ve been trying to finish for a week. What I did today will not become a daily occurrence. I know my love of staying up late will prevent me from getting to bed most nights early enough to allow it. But it was such a beautiful start to my day that I will definitely make an effort for it to happen at least a couple times a week. 

As I was gathering my stuff together to leave I accidentally knocked some things off my microwave, and among them was this poem by Hafiz. It had been awhile since I’d truly read it and so paused to do so, remembering with each line why I had fallen in love with it before. I’m sharing them with you all, and I hope that your day ends as wonderfully as mine began.

All the Hemispheres

Leave the familiar for a while.

Let your senses and bodies stretch out

Like a welcomed season

Onto the meadow and shores and hills.

Open up to the Roof.

Make a new watermark on your excitement

And love.

Like a blooming night flower,

Bestow your vital fragrance of happiness

And giving

Upon our intimate assembly.

Change rooms in your mind for a day.

All the hemispheres in existence

Lie beside an equator

In your heart.

Greet Yourself

In your thousand other forms

As you mount the hidden tide and travel

Back home.

All the hemispheres in heaven

Are sitting around a fire

Chatting

While stitching themselves together

Into the Great Circle inside of

You.