How waking up shapes reality

alarm clock This morning, I woke to a blaring alarm clock. It doesn’t matter that I went to bed uber early last night to try to recover from the cold I caught from the kids (my best friend is calling me “squeaky” this week).

I didn’t wake up on my own.

When I killed the blaring of my iPhone alarm, I heard a siren, overlapped by a car horn, the whirring of traffic and domestic unrest next door. I hate living in a townhouse. I also hate living in the city.

As I contemplated waking the 9-year-old to begin the “getting ready for school” routine, I remembered the way I woke up Monday morning. I spent the night on the farm. The kids were in Lexington and I’d stayed there to get a bit more work done on the farm before travelling to a client site that’s closer to the farm than it is to Lexington.

Monday, I woke without an alarm — despite the fact that I’d been up late sanding plaster on walls. I woke to the sound of birds and…. silence. No whooping and hollering. No cars and emergency vehicles. Nothing but the birds (and an occasional noise in the woods from squirrels or other leaf-rattling creatures as they crossed the floor of my own personal forest).

I didn’t wake up any later there, in fact it was a few minutes earlier. There was no rushing around, no panic, no “I’m going to be late” or “the kids are going to be late” — nothing but a leisurely block of a few minutes to stretch my body and gently awaken my mind.

I took care of a few chores that needed tending before I left, then I got dressed and ate breakfast. It was pure luxury.

I’m not stupid. I know this won’t last when I live there full time, but it sure would be nice to arrange things so my life more closely resembles Monday morning than it resembles this morning. That’s a worthy goal.

I think that how a person is awakened in the morning and how the first few minutes of the day play out, color the entire day. I’d like my days to be colored in gentle country pastels rather than the black, white and neons of the city mornings. I crave it.

(Note: Image taken from courtesy of photographer mconnors.)

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