I sit curled up in my papasan “circle” chair that I desperately wanted for so many years, and finally received at Christmas so long ago now that I cannot even remember, and I am ready to write.  The white-grey light of this cold December morning in East Texas shining through my apartment blinds; the blue and white lights of my quaint Christmas tree in a constant twinkle.  It is peaceful this morning. 

I believe in fact that this time of year is the most peaceful.  Sure, others may seem in what I’ll call a “holiday hurry,” but for the most part, schools are closing for the semester, people are planning their trips to be with family or helping those in need.  The pace just seems a little slower to me.  It’s quiet in the mornings.  It’s quiet in the evenings.  Everyone’s ready to turn their Christmas music on and sit by the fireplace’s glow with a cup of joe or hot cocoa.  I love it.  It’s beautiful.  The holiday cooking, the constant thinking of others & what I can possibly get or make for them this year, the thought of spending time back in KY with my family—all of it is magical to me. 

I think I’ve always been a morning person, or am at least loving that I am becoming a morning person the closer to 30 that I get each day.  Perhaps there was a time when I would set my alarm for 5:30am only to still nearly miss the bus in the morning, but I always dreamt of waking up to a warm cup of coffee and quiet reflection even before I ever drank coffee.  There is something so great about moving so early in the morning to me.  A sense of accomplishment, productivity and my, oh, my how my brain functions this early!  Early mornings make afternoon naps sound refreshing.  They make bed time in the evening seem so far away.   They make me realize how much time really is in one day.  How much there really is to do outside of work and school.  It makes me recognize what is neglected around my home, with my personal affairs, with my health.  I find that all of these things, I can manage so much more thoroughly if I just wake up a few hours earlier each day.

I suppose it is a peaceful morning such as this that I always anticipated in my early youth.  My own furniture.  My own living room.  Plants to water and dishes to clean.  The comforting call of my bed that says “come back to me, just for a few more minutes…”.  The only thing that is missing; that I pray for daily now when I spend time with the only one who never leaves me, is someone with whom to share the coffee.  Someone with whom to share the peaceful twinkle of the Christmas lights.  Someone to simply delight with me in the joy of a peaceful morning.