Waking Up

It’s damn early and I’m not quite awake. The sound of my fingers on this keyboard is annoying in the otherwise quiet kitchen were I sit and write this. I am full of reservations about my day at this early hour. I worry about all the things I know I have to do and all the things that will come up along the way. I worry about my ability to follow through on complex tasks and my ability to remain focused on the simple ones. And I know this is not the most productive set of morning emotions. I know the day is really more of a collection of possibilities than a collection of responsibilities, but no matter how I re-frame the problem, I keep worrying.

So its probably time for a complete reboot of the way I look at my day. I’ve always seen work as something I have to do to support my passions, rather than something I do out of passion. I don’t think this is going to change in the near term, as most of my passions pay very poorly or even cost money. What I can do is remind myself that I am not defined by my career. What I do for work can be isolated to the time I spend at work. It is possible for me to live two separate lives, to wake up in the morning early and write, then go to work and make a little money, then come home and read and write more. I do not have to be defined by a mere eight hours of my day.

Problem is, that eight hours is often exhausting, eating up energy that I would like to use on my passions. I don’t know what to do about this except to have more energy. So I force myself to exercise a little. I depend on coffee. I fight, constantly, the allure of bed by reminding myself that if I only work and sleep, I’ll be defined by work. I want to create a life that has nothing to do with what I do for a living, and I can’t do that from bed. Instead, every morning at 5:30 I fight the same battle against comfort and complacency with varying degrees of success. I fight to create the self I want to create, to do the things I want to do. I fight to wake up.