I consider myself a pretty disciplined person, except in one area: my snooze button.
No matter how late it makes me, no matter how much I need to get up and write/go to the gym/do chores, I can't resist thumping that button, for each whack brings a blissful 10 minutes of extra sleep.
But once or twice a week, timing and willpower do unite, and I'm able to arise at 6 a.m. like the morning person I am. (No really, I am. I'm just a morning person who requires 8 hours of sleep.)
These mornings mean two hours of pure quiet. The household is deep in REM. No one needs the washer. No one wants the TV. No one has questions to ask me. On these mornings I listen to the world wake up around me and urge it to take its time -- no need to rush into the hurried day.
Once or twice a week, I know peace. Which makes me wonder: Why do I hit the snooze button at all?
Prayer #118: In the Wee Small Hours
You are the morning dove, gentle and gray.
You are the pale sun, easing over the roof.
You are the empty street, devoid of honks.
You are the dim house, only one lamp lit.
You are the cluttered desk, biding your time.
You are the cool pillow, dented by sleep.
You are the rumpled bed, where dreams linger on.
You are the bird chatter, the trash can clatter.
You are the sighing. The listening. The emerging.
You are the waking.