Confession: If I had a choice between waking up well-rested before the crack of dawn and waking up well-rested a few short hours before noon, I’d choose the crack of dawn in a heartbeat. I love early mornings. I love waking up and feeling as if the rest of the world is still perfectly asleep, free of anger, sadness and suffering. Just… asleep.

In the early mornings there is quiet, not just outside, but within me. In the early mornings my mind is fresh. I wake up feeling as if I’ll be able to get so much more accomplished. My mind hasn’t had the chance to run through the usual cycle of toxic thoughts, weaving itselft into a messy web of worries, to-dos and self-reprimanding. I feel calm in these early morning hours. I can write in these hours, freely and without judgement. These hours bring me peace and are better than the countless forms of yoga I’ve tried.

Of course, waking up so early (especially on a Sunday), does not come without consequence. My sweet husband, Alpha Male that he is, becomes a soft and relenting cuddle monster when he’s in that dozy place between dreaming and awake. Pulling away from him is akin to slowly prying a child’s most treasured squishy from its protective, sleeping arms; and though it hurts me a little to do this to him some mornings, he is, as always, quick to forgive. Now, hopefully he’ll be just as quick to forgive me when his army buddies harass him for what I’ve written. “I’m love”, honey! Forgive me?! ♥