mornings

I love mornings. Part of it is the joy (peculiar perhaps) of compiling my to-do lists. (My cat, by the way, made fun of this daily habit in one of her diary entries, and if you're interested, you can read her point of view about it here.) Plural because I found that one list was not sufficient. Well, that's not quite accurate as that almost makes it sound like I accomplish a lot, which is definitely not the case. I just find it easier to divide it into three separate lists: anything related to trying to find Paid Work, anything I consider Creative Work, and everything else conveniently lumped into Other. Ah, the beauty of items scratched out by the end of the day, and the daily (usually unjustified) early morning hope and optimism that I can achieve anything and everything as long as I clearly, and neatly, write it all down. Above all, I savour the promise of a whole day spread out before me. And letting it unfold slowly.

"It is worth everything to me to feel the morning opening gently, not to be hurried, not to push myself from one kind of response to another at top speed." —MAY SARTON