Since March 19th, I have been getting up Monday - Thursday mornings at 6 am.
I pull on my robe, grab my phone & headphones, turn on a podcast and listen as I let the hot water boil for my coffee or tea.
I light a candle, sit down with my warm drink, switch from podcast to music and write.
So far, during these write mornings over the past three weeks, I have edited and arranged 21 pages of a project I am passionate about & drafted up half of a short film.
Some mornings it comes easy.
Falling out of my fingers like a waterfall.
Other mornings
I stare at the window beside my desk and seek the light that comes brighter every minute.
I have learned that there are some moments in these sessions that I should listen to my antsy body.
One of those times, I made myself sit through the two hours with cramps distracting me.
I should have taken my laptop, tea and settled on the couch. I should not have worried about the potential of being found out by my four-year-old and just embrace what needed to happen that morning.
Another time, up at all hours with a fevered child, I told my spirit that today was not the day to wake up at 6 am and force it.