Saturday Mornin'

I always want to sleep in on Saturdays, but I can't. My mind starts going even though my body is still tired and I can't quiet it down. So I get up while the rest of the house is sleeping and sneak downstairs with the dogs. I brew my coffee and snuggle into the couch with a blanket and provisions: pen, paper, planner. I check emails and then start my planning for the next week. Meal plan, grocery list, To Do list, all written out without interruption. 

I used to begrudge the fact that I have lost the ability to sleep late, no matter what time I go to bed, but I'm starting to treasure it. There is this sweet magic about solitude, this deep gratitude that a new day is ahead of us, that I am easing into my day with my family. Watching the sun rise, watching the pitch black sky slowly turn into dusty light is like watching a promise unfold. I've come to love this focused stillness. Having an hour or two, depending on when the rest of the crew ambles down the stairs, gives me time to breath and prepare and be aware. 

How often are we really still? How often do we get to focus solely on one task at a time? Not often enough. So I'll not complain that I can't sleep past a certain hour, I'll rise when my brain tells me to and indulge in the softness of the light easing into the window, the warmth of the puppy curled up beside me. I'll appreciate the beauty that is my life while I drink my coffee from the mug with my kid's artwork on it. Not too shabby.