Mornings.  I love mornings.  What I love even more is Monday mornings.  They are two of my favorite things.  A combination right up there with Abbot & Costello, Lennon & McCartney or chocolate & peanut butter.  I often stand alone at the bus stop of life in my love for Monday mornings, but I’m happy for the company I do have when it comes to appreciation for the window of time before the sun comes up and the morning it ultimately brings with it.

 

There have been beautiful odes, lyrical quotes, lovely poems and delightful music written for the love of morning and some of my favorite, include:

 

“Morning is the best of all times in the garden.  The sun is not yet hot.  Sweet vapors rise from the earth.  Night dew clings to the soil and makes plants glisten.  Birds call to one another.  Bees are already at work.”  -  William Longgood

 

“When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive… to breath, to think, to enjoy, to love.”  – Marcus Aurelius

 

Aurora Musis amica (Dawn is friend of the muses)

 

And if you’re having a tough time pulling your head off the pillow, I’m going to suggest you give a listen to “500 Miles/I’m Gonna Be” by the Proclaimers or “Walking on Sunshine” by Katrina & the Waves (courtesy of my Music to Brush Your Teeth By files).

 

While I’m pretty enthusiastic about shedding the darkest hour and moving on to dawn, I know that not everyone is a morning person.  Fact is I have met more people who don’t relish the idea of popping out of a cozy, dream-filled bed than those who do.  Morning is often an idea made even more painful to the sleep-deprived or chronic insomniacs.  Or, the mothers I’ve known with babies who refuse, or cannot, sleep.  And the hardworking caregivers, who only find time in the dark and quiet of night to get any tasks done, sacrificing sleep for their obligations.  To the exhausted, morning can become nothing more than a cold, gray prison and often a time of tears.

 

Over the years, I’ve had my share of those gray, painful mornings, where the idea of removing the protective shroud of blankets hurt every fiber of my being.  The thought of having to get up and brush my teeth was overwhelming.  No, morning was not always my friend, but even so, I still always found it to be better than the dark of night.

 

They say, the darkest hour is just before dawn – and if you can sleep through that, well then you, my friend, are one of the blessed.  For those with eyes wide open, trying desperately to focus on anything in the blackness before them, problems and difficulties can seem insurmountable, just impossible to hurdle over while everything around you is so stinkin’ dark.  It is incredibly difficult to hold on until morning, until the light of day illuminates the possibilities that were hidden under the heavy cloak of night’s gloom.

 

There is an African proverb that says, “However long the night, the dawn will break.”  Still, in our lives, there may be times when we feel as though morning will never come, ending the dark nights of our soul.  Deep down, we crave morning, with the promise it brings of brighter things and the hope it holds in its hands, able to fling light onto every surface it can find.  Humans fold their hands in prayer and wish with fingers crossed and longing in their hearts for the shadows, real or implied, to retreat.

 

How then, do we hang on until the sun rises to brighten our hearts and days?  For some, it is prayer.  Not mindless, trivial utterings, either.  I’m talking down on your knees, possibly prostrate on the carpet, prayer, begging for help and guidance.  Others find their solace in their family and friends, where words of comfort and encouragement passed between can build a bridge to help them cross over into the light.  Then there are the false balms and salves applied by others in an attempt to endure ‘til dawn (alcohol, drugs, food, empty relationships, spending, etc.), compulsions that can serve up only false bravery and sometimes eliminate the ability to even recognize the light when it does arrive.

 

Morning.  A word, for me, that is symbolic of all that lies ahead.  Could be good, might be difficult, but no matter what – it promises to be bright.

 

I’m buying new sunglasses.  Just in case.  I want to be ready for some incredibly bright mornings.  Starting with Monday.