I have heard of people who have a sacred morning routine or morning ritual. They rise early and spend quiet moments meditating. They have a cup of coffee or tea and then put their sneakers on and go for a morning walk while the sun rises and the rest of the world is slowly waking. They spend a few minutes writing in their journals and then they are ready to meet the day.
Whenever I read of such people I am instantly jealous. I gasp. “THEY have a morning ritual!! I wish I had a morning ritual!!”
Then I remember that, actually, I have a morning ritual.
At the moment my morning ritual is waking VERY early and very tired because I’m waking much too early — sometimes before sunrise.
I feel teary because I am tired but my brain is on red alert and tells me, “Nope. You are done sleeping now. We have things to worry about so get going…”
I feed the cat.
I press my hand to my forehead while I drink my first cup of coffee.
I watch my cat, Peri, in her morning ritual.
Peri gobbles her breakfast and even makes little “nuk nuk nuk” sounds as she eats.
Then she comes to me and rubs her face against my shoulder for a few seconds.
Then she runs two circles around the dining room table and plays with a dustball.
Then she RUNS to her litter box… steps inside… sticks her rear end out of the entrance of the box, and pees all over my floor.
As soon as she is finished she dashes up the stairs as though a pack of wolves are after her and she runs under the bed where she curls up in a semi circle and proceeds to sleep the morning away.
And I end my morning ritual by getting out the disinfectant and cleaning my floor and sweeping up bits of litter that Peri has scattered as she ran away.
I return to my coffee and then I say — “Hokay. Let’s get through this day the best way we can…”