In praise of slow mornings
Thirty minutes between the alarm and the first message that change the whole day. An essay about coffee, a window and the right not to rush.
For a long time my mornings began with other people’s news. Before I had even opened my eyes I knew what had happened on the other side of the world, and almost nothing about my own mood.
One day I set the alarm half an hour earlier. Not for exercise or a scheduled meditation, but simply to give the day an introduction.
What fits into thirty minutes
Coffee made without hurry. A window slowly getting lighter. A few lines in a notebook — not a plan or a to-do list, just whatever is in my head. Sometimes none of this, only silence, and that’s fine too.
A slow morning is not a luxury. It is a way to live the day instead of just getting through it.
Olena Hnatiuk
What I don’t do
I don’t open email, messengers or the news before eight. The world doesn’t stop, but for the first time in ages I begin the day with my own thoughts rather than someone else’s.
Of course there are mornings with deadlines, children and early trains. Then the slow morning shrinks to one cup of coffee by the window. But even those five minutes are enough for the day to start with you.
1 comment
Five minutes by the window. I can do that. Thank you for this.