A Morning Ritual

A Morning Ritual

A friend recently asked, “When do you write?”

I explained that all writers eventually find their special time, be it morning or evening, that gives rather than takes energy. That special time for me is in the morning … the very early morning when all others are still sound asleep, cars are not passing the house, the birds still roost … offering me a unique solace of time to call my own.

I slap the four o’clock alarm to eventual silence and soon rise to a new day that begins with meditation, coffee, pen, and paper. My preference is to prime the writing pump with a non-stop, free-write session in longhand for at least ten minutes … or until my hand cramps. And my hand usually wins out well before my thoughts do ... the ones still cascading, tumbling in my caffeine-infused state.

Out of all that free-write scrawl, I might (and I emphasize might) find one sentence, one thought, sometimes just one word, that makes any sense. I circle it to be saved, to be savored for a re-read a few weeks later. And when I eventually do soak up that awful mass of scrawl, I sometimes have to put my hand to forehead, wondering, “Where was my mind…?” But it’s all worth it to just let it all out in the early morning … to get that one special bit of prose that inspires, that motivates, that captivates.

Yes, serenity for me comes in the wee hours before daylight, when the pages open and the twilight’s endeavor for me is to read, to write, to contemplate.

Putting pen to paper gives cause for a renewal of life, a renewal of lost memories and happiness in a moment that I can truly call mine. Like the warm and feathery touch of the pillow nestling my thoughts, I feel a world that only the morning can offer with its quiet and comfort.

It’s a special time for promises, dreams and an undeniable love of craft.

----R.E. Vaughn