Morning becomes me

I start my days the same way.

 Preference becomes routine. Routine becomes habit. Habit becomes ritual. Ritual has meaning. Ritual has its own narrative.

 I awake just before dawn, regardless of season, regardless of light. I spend the first few minutes delighting in either the embrace of flannel, the crinkled caress of well-washed linen, or the supple softness of high-thread-count cotton. Yeah, I know, much verbiage there. But that’s an indication of my obsession and not my editorial acumen.

 I reach over to grab my phone, which I know should not be in the room with me, but it has to be in the room with me because…well, because my phone is now both the repository and the route to so so much of my life. I insert my earbuds, open InsightTimer, and listen to a morning meditation. I do not often reach some state of grace, but I do manage, most of the time, to quiet the part of my brain that immediately starts making lists.

 And then: Coffee. Ever since Tom and I traveled to Costa Rica, I have been ordering my beans from Sunburst, sourced from small fincas in that country and Guatemala. Have you ever seen a field of coffee shrubs? Have you ever smelled the sweet, citrusy scent of coffee blossoms? That’s where my mind goes while I am grinding the beans.

 While I sip, standing at the kitchen counter, I slide open the box of Affirmators! (The exclamation point is part of the title.) This is a box of “affirmation cards to help you help yourself—without the self-helpy-ness.” Oh Lordy, how I hate the whole idea of affirmations and the self-help industry and bumpersticker wisdom. But I love these cards. (Thank you, Mical, for knowing that I would.) They are funny and snarky and cut to the chase. And, like the readings you get from I Ching, each card, every day, preternaturally pinpoints what is important that morning.

 I neglected to insert teeth-brushing and face-washing because there is nothing literary about that…

 Do you have a morning ritual? Share in comments, if you are so inclined.