What have mornings meant to you as you scroll the pages of your life? It is interesting to think of all of the different kinds of mornings that we can experience. From my childhood summer mornings, I can recall, setting one foot on the floor followed by walking straight out the door to see my friends. Another day’s adventures awaited.
Those much too early wake-ups in which we sprayed the grass the night before with water to get the night crawlers to surface, so that we may select them for participation in our early morning fishing trip. 2 hours before before sunrise, very little sleep, we drove toward lakes and rivers with the hopes a very good day. It is a journey into a world that somehow does not exist, until this misty morning.
As a child, I woke at 4 o’clock and tuned into the airwaves from hundreds of miles away. Learning about places I did not live, and getting to know people I did not know. Warmth traveled across the stratosphere until the light waves from the east strangled the radio waves out. This friend is to return tonight after the sun sets in Western New York.
Early morning, in a hole in the dirt in Kuwait, dug into a minefield. I was in the eye of the storm and because of that, I did not know what was happening. I sat in my hole, sunrise seemed 100 hours away. I carefully tuned my Walkman, looking for news I could scrape off the AM dial in English. Through bits and pieces of Voice of America out of Africa and the BBC World Service from London, I found out my position in world events. Then, like a beacon of hope, the BBC began to spin the song Disappear by INXS. There was so much power in the moment, I could never explain it. To this day, when I hear that song, I can feel that spot in the world. It seems that we leave a piece of us in those places that have that much gravity.
The sun did rise that day. Unbeknownst to us we had actually been ahead of the armored division that we were supporting. They hammered through like a storm.
A few days later it was 3 o’clock AM. I awoke from sleep where I always slept, the hood of my truck. I listened to the president call the cease-fire and that he looked forward to welcoming thousands of us home. It seemed impossible, yet it was happening.
Those mornings in which I started new jobs, and let me tell you, there have been a few. I remember all those first days of school with the smell of new clothes everywhere. An old friend once further described a grammar school morning. Gray fall skies, and maybe drizzle while inside, bright florescent lights hummed overhead.
The early morning hours were my father’s last hours. In the wee hours, we went to the jetty and should not have been there because the wind and the waves were a rage. The sun rose out of the Gulf of Mexico as we sat watching, the warmth of a 7-Elevin coffee in our hands.
The first days of school for my children and the subsequent days that followed with their roller coaster highs and lows.
There are infinite possibilities when you wake up in the morning. I do feel sometimes that routine has taken over, coffee, wood stove, commercials for injury lawyers, skin remedies, coin and jewelry resellers, and automobiles. <Yawn> All I could say is there is still a chance to mix it up. Read or write something, listen to music instead of turning on the droning morning news. Cook something tasty. Do something you love.
Just have a good morning.