Up with the larks
GETTING UP EARLIER BRINGS POSSIBILITIES OF NOT JUST QUIET AND TIME, BUT LIFE- BROADENING THINGS TO DO, AWAY FROM THE EVERYDAY, SAYS CATHERINE BUTLER
Generally quite ‘dormouse’ in disposition, I’d say that, until recently, the sunsets I’ve witnessed have far outweighed the sunrises. Since childhood, anyone foolhardy enough to suggest that I leave the covers, even a few minutes before I absolutely must, would almost certainly be met with some kind of bedside missile. But as I’ve got older, and the pie of my day is divided into ever-increasing slices, I’m often left with no time to reflect, daydream, or do anything not under the job description of worker, wife or mum. Then there’s the fact that jumping straight from my bed into my to-do list takes its own kind of toll, and I started to wonder how it would be if I swapped my duvet for the peace of the dawn instead.
A one-off experiment won’t hurt, I reassure myself, as I wake early and creep downstairs into the inky darkness. The house is filled with »
“I’d never noticed before how sunrise starts with a feeling, like a gentle tug of anticipation as our little corner of the earth makes its final shift towards the sun”
night noises; the children’s gentle snoring, the ticking of the heating. As I wait for the kettle to boil, these noises are joined by the sounds of early morning; the footsteps of the first commuter, the rattle of a milk float. Now, with a hot mug of tea, and ‘The Shipping Forecast’ announcing gales in “Lundy, Fastnet, Irish Sea,” I marvel at the novelty of how my first thoughts of the day are rambling along uninterrupted.
I think of all the things I could be doing rather than should be; writing a page in my journal, catching up with the morning news, a few pilates moves on the living room rug, perhaps. Or maybe I’ll just sip my tea… I’d never noticed before how sunrise starts with a feeling, like a gentle tug of anticipation as our little corner of the earth makes its final shift towards the sun. Then first light begins to unspool between the houses, and up on over the rooftops, and as my heightened night vision makes sense of the new light, I can see every hint and hue, every microscopic change of colour, and the sky truly deserves its nickname, The Heavens, right now.
Sunrise is far tidier than the messy chaos of sunset. I’m not just saying that, it’s a fact. After dusk, the winds die down, the smog eases, and the atmosphere cleans itself, meaning there really is no clearer time than the dawn. I watch as the clouds turn from pink, to bright lava, then back down through every shade to the palest champagne, just as I hear the pad of little footsteps on the stair. I get to my feet, and for once I’m ready to put my toe to the starting line. Maybe it’s not how long you are in bed or which side you choose to get out of it that really matters. Perhaps it’s what you choose to do once you do get up that really sets the tone for your day; and today, at least, is already looking beautiful.
A RITUAL MINDSET
To paraphrase the author Annie Dillard, a schedule “defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days… a peace and haven set into the wreck of time.” There’s something sacred about routine, but the ones we start the day with can become the rituals that shape our weeks, months and years. You don’t have to be able to put your ankle behind your ear to start your day in a meditative way, but if you are a yogi, the two hours before dawn, ‘The Ambrosial Hours’, are believed to be the most spiritual, and therefore ideal for practising yoga or breath work.
If you prefer something a little more vigorous to start your day, walking the dog or running at first light, or doing any repetitive activity that allows your mind to rest and wander, is a restorative way to begin a busy day.
Those who feel less sprightly first thing could try daily journalling instead, or you could simply take inspiration from the »