For reasons I hope are obvious, I often (O.K. - almost always) deny myself the pleasure of getting up really, really early in the morning.
For the past ten days I’ve been waking a little before 5:00 a.m. Initially it was due to jet lag, but then I decided to ride it for as long as I could.
The world is dark and quiet and I get to witness it coming to life which lends a certain strange, unexpected, detached humor to the way my day unfolds. It feels like I’m watching a movie, maybe written by Fellini - which I’m not sure is a favorable portrayal of my life and the way I view it, but I must get back to the intended subject - ah, yes. Getting up early.
I see the sun rise (what a waste, to have missed so many) and my wish of needing more time is suddenly granted: at least two extra hours, which is nearly an extra day a week.
The potential is stupendous. Just think - what would you do if your week had an extra day?
I’ve got to do this more often.