I have always been a morning person. Staring at the wall as early as 6:00 A.M. willing everyone else in the house to wake up and start breakfast was the norm during my childhood sleepovers. The irritation my friends felt when spending the night over at my house was obvious, as I made unnecessary noise and stirred in bed in an effort to force them awake. With age it seems early mornings have become more acceptable across the board and are often seen as an proponent of self-care. Being with a partner who doesn’t oppose the morning also helps.
I recently moved from a quiet suburban neighborhood to the more constant buzzy activity of Downtown Long Beach. Which just means I’m right in the THICK of it all – the noise, sirens, flow of people, homelessness and cute bars and the restaurants that make it all digestible. My neighborhood is everything I never knew I always wanted. So what does this have to do with my morning memories? I have noticed that morning feels much more sacred in a place that seems to never have an off button. It doesn’t get completely still and quiet until around 3-4 in the morning in my hood and the buzz begins again around 7:00 A.M. So waking up and walking around at 5:30 A.M. feels surreal. The infinite possibility that the start of a day brings, the closeness to spirit because the quiet and solitude drowns out all else? It’s what I couldn’t articulate was happening inside me all of those mornings in my youth.
What is hard to express with words I hope can be made clear by the pictures I took on a recent morning walk around my new hood. My goal is to get in 10,0000 steps a day so I generally walk about 3 miles. In that time I can walk on the beach, Shoreline Drive, City Hall, Rainbow Lagoon and the Convention Center (yes I live in the BEST neighborhood EVER)
What do you love most about mornings? I’d love to know in the comments below.