5:28am. Giving myself 15 minutes to write this. Then it's time to shower and get our day started. I've been letting Husband shoulder too much of the morning routine with the girls and I am realizing that isn't fair, so today's the day to step up. Anyway, I just did something. Something I haven't done in a long, long while. Something I'm not sure I've ever really done. I wrote words. And I wrote them just for me. They were not for my book. Not for this blog. Just for me. And I had to keep reminding myself of this fact, that I wouldn't be showing these words to anyone, that I was totally free, that I could say whatever. I found myself hesitating, polishing, perfecting. And then I would remember: This is just for me. And my fingers would fly again.
I wrote these words in a new document called Morning Pages. Yes, inspired by the wonderful Julia Cameron. And who knows whether I will continue this morning tradition of writing words just for me, but I will tell you that it was an amazing way to start this day. Because I just wrote things that were true. Full sentences. Half sentences. I wrote down happy things and less than happy things. I wrote down things I am excited about and worried about. I asked questions. I scribbled secrets.
Secrets. It's not as if I have any big, juicy ones, but I do have things, things I think about that I don't run around telling people. I'm sure you have secret stuff too? Stuff that is just there, filmy on the surface of your self and your life? Anyway, I'm not sure what the point of this morning writing is or will be. But I can tell there is something important about doing it. I think writing first thing helps us clear cob webs. That's how I feel right now. A bit more clear, clean, ready to begin a new day.
Beginnings. I wrote about this very concept this morning:
Where to begin? Isn’t that always the question? Again and again, we begin things. Until it all ends, we are beginning. Important to remember, this constant starting over that is the stuff of life.
I like this bit. And isn't it so true? That each day we begin again. There is a real optimism in this thought, that we are allowed a fresh start every single day of our lives. But then again there is the reality that each beginning takes effort and thought and part of us... So worth thinking about, all of this. And writing about.
Anyway. As someone who has spent the better part of a decade writing for an audience it was nice to sit down and write for an audience of one. Me. It would be a beautiful way to begin each day, but I know better than to plan too far ahead. We shall see, right?
Do you ever just write for yourself? Do you have any secret stuff, ie stuff in your consciousness that you don't necessarily talk about with others? What does a typical morning look like in your home?