Morning is my favorite time of day. I like the peace, the solitude, the quiet. There is no noise except a car passing on the street, the furnace turning on or off. I observe the Indigo of night give way to the gray of morning and then later, to the pale pastel of blue and pink. My wife is typically out running her six miles or swimming her forty-five minutes. My daughter is still sleeping.
Most times, I lie in bed and think, meditate. I might read. I might think about the book I’m writing, the characters within and what they’ll be doing the next time I turn on my computer. Sometimes I step over to one of the windows in our bedroom and look out at the woods behind our house. If I’m lucky, I see a deer grazing on the tall grass. At other times, I see the rabbit that made our yard a home. This morning, snowflakes floated in the air, landing peacefully and softly on our deck and lawn. Not heavy or thick or wet, but light and fluffy. The snow stopped as suddenly as it had started, gray clouds giving away to blue sky and sunshine.
Aren’t mornings an opportunity for a fresh start and a new beginning? Aren’t mornings the opportunity for the ultimate do-over?
You get to look back on what you did yesterday and improve upon it. You get to undo the things you did, the things you said. You get to fix the things you didn’t do or say but should have, and correct them. A new day brings about a new beginning, a new hope. You’re not locked into yesterdays or where you’ve been before, or the things you said or did the previous day. A morning gives us a chance to course-correct, to get back on the right path. And the really wonderful thing about mornings is that they keep coming. There seems to be an endless supply of mornings, years of them actually.
Perhaps we need to take advantage of this gift: to change, to course-correct, to do over and make anew. To rectify. It’s your choice, really. A choice you get to make each and every morning.