this is how i make every morning sacred

the importance of doing something you love every day

i’ve always been someone who likes to rise with the sun, sometimes even before so i can wave goodbye to the moon quickly before her shift ends. this is one of the few things i like about winter, all the conversations i have with the moon.

but mostly, i love to wake up with the sun on my cheeks, with birdsong in my ears and a big stretch that makes me feel i’ve just grown an inch taller. on good days, which recently have been more than not, i make sure my mornings are sacred. this is how i feel like i have my life together because every day, i do something that brings me nothing but joy. i get a slice of flow, that state where time doesn’t exist, and i am doing the things i feel like i was meant to do.

nothing else exists in this time but my soul and the skies. this is when my mouth stays closed and my heart remains open, open to the possibilities of the day and to the energy that surrounds it. my body and the world that exists above the trees, in between branches and the soil beneath us are in conversation. sunny days make me feel alive, like i can tackle a long to do list, a list that consists mostly of what to read, what personal projects to work on, how to move my body that day and how i want my mind to feel. cloudy days make me feel like i need to close in on myself a little, hold the day like one of those clouds are in my hands, i need to be gentle, kinder. rainy days mean books, obviously.

i am swayed by the notes of the wind, i don’t care if this makes me unproductive some days.

6 am

wake up and feel the sun on my face, leave my partner sound asleep beside me, use the bathroom and leave it with the taste of mint on my lips, enter the living room and prepare the space ~ tidy things left behind from the night before, rearrange ornaments and crystals, light a candle, don’t rear too far into cleaning mode ~ sometimes do a sun salutation but mostly forget to do this, look at the sky and if it’s blue, feel a rush of serotonin wash over my chest, feel a faint smile on my cheeks, notice the signal that today is going to be a good day, take my journal from the bookshelf and sit at the desk.

6:30 am

switch on the radio and play a lo-fi station, open my journal and begin to pour from the mind, anything that comes to mind will do, transfer dreams to the page so they can find a new home, write about what happened yesterday and what i’m ruminating on, what i’m currently thinking about, what is making me happy, what i think i’m not doing right or failing at, recognise as more ink hits the page that i’m unfurling the answer to my problems, feel grateful that most of the answers are already inside of me, feel grateful that i am able to do this, feel grateful for the act of writing, look at the candle flickering beside me, write some more.

7 am

make a cup of tea and shake my oat milk extra hard so it will go frothy, place said frothy cup of tea onto the coffee table and pick up my book to read for an hour, be transported somewhere completely different for a while, switch to jazz fm in the background or if there are too many songs with lyrics and it gets distracting switch to classic fm, sometimes light a candle and place it next to my cup of tea and pretend that it will keep it warmer for longer because i will inevitably drink it too slowly and it will go cold before i like.

8 am

drag the treadmill out from under the couch and get ready to walk for half an hour while watching a tv show, currently it’s chicago med ~ a show that’s soap-like and reminds you of watching soaps with mum after school, something with plots so ridiculous it’s the best thing to have on in the background especially during workouts when i need that little bit of extra motivation ~ get just the right amount of sweaty and hungry, pour the remnants of my cold tea down the drain and eat breakfast while finishing up the episode that will inevitably end on a cliff-hanger.

from the point of getting on the treadmill, my mornings begin to transition from sacred to “productive” (we need to find a new word for this, it has been heavily tainted by capitalism), and my real day begins when i get off the treadmill. then i have to log into work and hope i don’t have emails and the realities of the real world rears its ugly head. but what would i do, what would i be without my effort to have sacred mornings?

when i didn’t have sacred mornings, the world felt dark even when it was sunny outside. i didn’t notice the sun and if i did, it didn’t make me feel the amount of joy i do now (and as a leo, this is simply tragic). i would feel guilty that i wasn’t going out and making the most of the sun, that my body didn’t respond to sunshine like it used to, that child-like excitement for the longer days and vibrant blue skies. instead i was thinking about how i wasn’t spending time with it wisely because we all know this is not forever. but now i can enjoy the view even with the knowledge that i will not leave my house that day. the sun can reach me through my windows and that child-like joy radiates through me once again. it is only because i have prioritised the things that make up who i am that i was able to clear the clouds in my peripherals.

this time in the morning is like an extended version of opening my eyes. i slowly transition and wake up to the day by doing all these little rituals and little things that make me feel like me. i don’t know who i was or what i liked or what i cared about when i woke up and immediately thought of the things i had to get done that day or got my attention stuck on my phone. now i have an entire selection of ways i want to spend my mornings, from meditation to a short yoga practice to journaling to reading to writing, but most days, it is just a time to collect my thoughts and spend some time with a book accompanied by a cup of tea.

i can’t think of any other way to start the day.

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hello quiet readers, thank you for reading today’s post. i hope i gave you something to think about. do you make your mornings sacred in some way? or perhaps you’re more of a night owl and you have a specific evening routine? i’d love to hear about them so share them in the comments if you’d like!

thank you as always for supporting finding quiet. it truly is a joy to write for you every week. if you can, consider becoming a paid subscriber for extra posts every other friday, subscriber-only wednesday posts and access to the quiet list series which is currently under construction! i’m very excited to show you the ideas i have for that one :’)

here is last week’s post on whether we can ever really escape influencer culture and here is my latest youtube video on a review of the wildest thriller i’ve read this year so far.

i’ll see you next wednesday <3