How come it seems all the wisest people wake up super early? Blarg. I don't particularly mind being awake in the morning. Last week I was driving before the sun was up. It was pleasant, almost cathartic, to watch the sun rise as I drove south. I like the times I am awake in the morning, but couldn't pin down why I dislike mornings in general, until it hit me: getting out of bed is the worst.
Getting out of bed is the worst because it directly mimics the trauma of being born. Consider this, in the morning, you suddenly move from unconsciousness to consciousness. You've been lying in the fetal position in a warm and inviting, safe, environment. Then all of a sudden, at the beckoning of a loud noise, you are ripped from that comfortable cocoon and thrust into the cold, harsh, noisy real world. I dislike getting out of bed so freaking much.
I've decided I need a good reflection device for nighttime, as mornings aren't going to do it for me. Last night I found it. I found it during my nightly Netflix scroll. I sat on my couch and pictured this scenario, "If I had to live this exact same day over again, what would I discover that I had missed?" This is not a Groundhog's day scenario where I can do anything else I want. What if I had to live this very same day and same actions again, and again. Or, what if this was my last day to live as a free person, and upon waking up I found myself in solitary confinement forever. This was my last free day on earth to reflect on, forever.
I dove into my imagination and observed the day through my memories.
What did I miss? What could I have said? I should have squared my shoulders to talk with the neighbor when she interrupted my mowing. I could have stopped on my run to engage the street worker who looked like he wanted to talk. What did the cut grass smell like? What was the temperature? What were the birds and the squirrels doing? Who did I reply to with short answers that needed longer ones? What did I read? What did I watch? What did I listen to? How can I squeeze any more memory or meaning out of those experiences recently passed? Where was there meaning that I missed the first time?
So tonight, as you prepare to crumble into bed, I invite you to give it a try. What extra ounce of marrow can you harvest out of this day, this very special and once in a lifetime day? Share, if you dare, what you found that would have been lost in your mind if you had not made this effort to retrieve it.