My eyes flutter open and I reach for my cellphone. It serves as an alarm, but also tempts me to bypass this subtle threshold. To step over the present and walk headfirst, literally, into my day.
What’s the weather forecast? I should send an email about that workshop. How much of my to-do list can I accomplish while my son’s at school?
Before arriving at a reflexive destination, my hand pauses.
What did I do before that tiny computer claimed a spot on my nightstand? How would my mind and body greet the morning? Where did my attention go in that hazy space between sleeping and waking?
I remember. I would just look and listen and feel and breathe. So I do that now. My eyes rest on light and shadows. Through slim slits in the shutters, I witness a dance of branches and breeze and daybreak. Hear a bird singing outside the window. Touch flannel sheets with sensitive fingertips. Yawn deeply. And eventually, move and stretch and rise from my cozy bed.
The day starts with ease and enjoyment instead of apps and agendas (the latter pair can wait until after coffee).
Old School in the A.M.
Do you remember, dear friend, mornings before mobile phones? I propose we reclaim that liminal space this holiday season. As we move into the last month of 2023, let’s go old school.
In the weeks ahead, instead of picking up your cell first thing…l invite you to look and listen and feel and breathe.
When you pause for a moment in this sensory gateway, what do you notice?