I don’t party. I don’t drink (ok, I don’t drink much). I think the last descriptor my friends would use on me is “night owl.”
I am a morning person, which means different things to different people. To some, it’s about the ritual of a warm cup of coffee and a quiet hour spent with a book. To others, it’s an oasis before the kids start stirring. I’d be lying if I said I leap from the covers bright-eyed and bushy tailed. It’s never easy to wake up at 5 and convince myself to put two feet on the floor or inchworm my body from a warm sleeping bag. So, why? I’m a morning person because so few people are.
Morning—early morning—is my favorite time of day. The rest of the world is sleeping; whatever I see in those still, early hours becomes a secret that only I’m in on. Well, me and a few fisherman or sleepy-eyed commuters.
I don’t pretend to know much. But if I could give anyone advice on how to live a little bit “better,” it would be to wake up early. It gets easier to do, but it never gets less incredible to experience.
It’ll be our little secret.