Most days, I open my eyes and reach for my table clock only to realise I still have time to linger on a little longer. The wake-up call comes much later. In my excitement to welcome the morning, I need to calculate if I’ve had seven hours of sleep. That’s when I step out into the hall, carrying my glasses and my journal from the bedside table, ready to soak in some me-time and that special magic of a quiet hour.
The hour between 5 am and 6 am is truly special. No wonder they call it the magic hour—a term extended to the time preceding sunrise and that following sunset!
I freshen up, ready myself for the morning routine and walk up to the kitchen to put the kettle on. It’s the moment that I eagerly wait for. There is no better thing for me to be doing then, other than to savour my morning cuppa (ginger tea, mostly!), followed by scribbling a page or two in my journal, whilst listening to the sounds of the morning that has been breaking outside. I watch out of the window—an occasional car pulls up by the lake side. Joggers are on their rounds and a few strays sleepily stretching out, staring at the passersby. It is now apparent that the world is slowly rousing from its’ slumber.
Once my journal writing is done, I roll out my yoga mat and look out to catch a glimpse of the skyline. By now, it mostly displays an ever-changing array of reds and oranges. The birds have begun to fly out of their nests, and their morning chatter is quite a thing! Even the plants in our balcony are seemingly swaying in the breeze, almost as if someone has nudged them to wake up too.
As I settle into a ten-minute guided meditation, I shut my eyes and realise how, gently and slowly, my consciousness seems to fade away into another world, where one by one, leaf by leaf, my thoughts have learnt to park themselves, stacking up, one above the other, so that they no longer need to bother me. I acknowledge them in the silence of that magic hour and they nod back in turn. We have learnt to make peace with each other these days.
By now, the colours of the magic hour are all but gone and the incessant chatter of a busy world is beginning to spread. The cars are now zooming past in quick succession and the road by the lake looks busier.
And just as it were, while the world is busy, a giant orb reveals itself from behind a towering highrise on the other side of the lake. It seems to me, now, that the Universe is tapping on my shoulders, nudging me to fill in the hours in the most meaningful way.
I prepare myself, ready to swing into action, armed with my to-do list, ready to take on the day, and everything else that it will bring along.
Morning has arrived. And so have I! 🙂
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Written as part of our #SoulfulSunday freewriting exercise—a concept ideated by Vinitha, Shilpa and yours truly.
