Meeting Morning

The power of defining oneself as “not a morning person” struck me once again at 4am, mountain time as I clung to my covers, twisted and turned from one sleepless position to the next and tried to convince myself that I was not awake. How could I be? It was 4am. Five layers of blankets separating me from the 50 degree house, the warm sleeping cat curled into the crescent sleeping on my side creates, the absolute darkness, the 3 hours my alarm still had to count down before screaming, counting my breathes – none of these things soothed me back to sleep. Something was wrong. At quarter to five I eased myself from the layers of quilts and conceded to wakefulness.

To my surprise the morning hours before sunlight tints the sky are not that bad when not forced to approach them by a relentless alarm and an ever encroaching deadline to leave the house.

I enjoyed a productive, caffeine-free morning. Any other day and the words “productive” “caffeine-free” and “morning” could not truthfully be put together in a sentence that applied to me.  But by 5:30am I was dressed for the day with the pets fed, the dog  let out and back in, and the dishes from last night’s meal done. By 6:30 I had finished breakfast (with water rather than coffee or tea!), wandered around feeling as though I should be rushing to something and after several minutes of finding nothing to rush to, realized that on this particular Monday morning there was nothing left for me to do but relax. I gathered a couple of books to choose from and started toward the couch; it was then that I heard it. I noticed the sound of no music, no clattering from the other room, no one talking, no pets scampering over the hardwood floors.  It was – I believed – quite. Every other living being was asleep behind a closed door. I was alone in a quite house with hours to fill. An excitement I had not felt in months closed in resulting in a giddiness akin to seeing an old friend for the first time in years. I opened my computer and began to write.

And so – after months of neglect – I have a  new post for the blog. On the horizon is a break in my busy schedule when I hope to be able to ramble more frequently. Also new today is a posting on my photoblog at: eyewonders.wordpress.com – check it out and check back here soon!

 

24 hours and counting

That’s how long it’s been since I’ve sleep. It’s not insomnia (despite the slightly depressed sound of my previous post, which I intended to end on a positive note – don’t know if I pulled that off). Rather, the day-long vigil sprung out of chain of unforeseen events fed by my soft-spot for puppies and (unrelated to puppies) a need for money. Having not gone through the joy of an infant waking me in the wee hours of the morning, I had no idea how much I’d suffer from three consecutive days of being woken by wimping and yelps at 3:30am followed by early rising at 6am. A bit of lost sleep while puppy sitting wouldn’t have been too concerning if I hadn’t gotten a call from work at 3pm asking if I might be available to cover a graveyard shift for a co-worked who’d called in sick the day before. I agreed, begrudgingly. When I hadn’t heard from work by 7:30, I had begun to think I was off the hook but decided I should call in to make-sure they were covered . . what a mistake that was. So here I am, pushing 25 hours of wakefulness. Kind of gives the day a surreal feel.

It certainly has given me time to think – both focus and wondering thoughts. Strangely enough, the wandering thoughts kept chasing around plot-line and character sketches for new stories and those that have been on the back burner. And by back burner, I’m talking years of simmering. Blogging has certainly helped get my mind back into writing mode. Maybe its time to see if I can jot down some fiction.

 

Baby steps

So I take my first steps beyond my spiral-bound notebook and teeter into the world of blogging; a little unsure, yet full of conviction. I hope to find a place to share some ideas, dust off my writing skills, and display some of my favorite pictures. I am certain my spiral notebook will still see its share of action; no matter how small and light technology gets, I cannot fathom hiking into the wilderness and pulling out anything other than a pen and paper to jot down my thoughts. However, I hope that as I develop the habit of blogging I will be able to gather those mountain rambles into some presentable thoughts to share here.