the life-changing magic of a morning routine

Mornings, I think, are the most sacred time of day and yet they are so easily squandered. If we wish to make anything of those precious early hours we must fight bitterly against sleep, that old friend turned foe, and against the pull of our digital antagonists. But the short battle is always worth it, don’t you think?

In the same way that our days shape our lives, our mornings shape our days.

One early March morning I took my usual route around the neighborhood. Overnight it had rained; the air clung heavily, and I wiped sleep from my eyes. And then—oh! The tender green rupture of new grass, the thickening and swelling of spindly branches—all a miracle. And to think this happens every year—thank you an exhalation with every step.

Then, coming home, fixing coffee and slicing bread, reading for as long as my day allows. Writing, if the moment feels right. Sometimes just sitting, staring into nothing. 

These things I do in the morning are not groundbreaking, and they expand and contract in the time I have available. But the basic rhythm is non-negotiable, for it serves as a boundary—a moment of replenishment—before the demands of the outer world start to creep in (and how easily they creep!). Afterwards, I am a calmer, more creative, more balanced version of myself.

If we fail to prioritize our minds and well-being, we shrivel into shells of ourselves.

What does your gut tell you to do? Listen to it. Let it inform your life. Mine says be still, wake slowly, pay attention to the tiny miracles. What exactly you do in the morning doesn’t matter so long as it’s done with intention. It may just change your life.