the hidden treasure of early mornings
Friday, 11 September 2015
This week I've been waking up earlier than usual, while the house is still dark.
Quietly, I tiptoe out to the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil. In the lounge room, I turn on the lamp, light some candles, and open a single curtain. In the soft, early morning light, I sit and write down the thoughts that inevitably over crowd my brain, and drink the day's first cup of coffee.
Waking earlier than the family is a good opportunity for me to meet the day slowly, with time to process my thoughts before being bombarded with thoughts and requests from my little people.
And then I hear her.
The door opens, and I hear her soft footsteps padding down the hall towards me, until I see her, standing in the doorway with her unruly curls hiding her face and looking at me with her big, sleepy blue eyes.
She walks over to me, and I open my arms, inviting her for a good morning hug, without a word.
While we're sitting together, she talks to me softly, telling me her thoughts and asking the things she wants to know in the few silent minutes before her more talkative siblings awaken.
And while we're sitting, we see the sun start to rise like a red orb in the sky. She asks if the sun is bigger than God.
I squeeze her tight, smell her hair, and capture this moment in my heart.
The hidden treasure of early mornings is these moments of connecting with her.