Skip to content

dave destroys dreamland – month six

July 6, 2010

Morning Waiting

This entry is cheating. I’m actually completing my June entry for The Art of Waiting on the morning of July 1. I waited too long.

But July 1 or not, I am indeed intentionally waiting as I write this. I have chosen not to return to sleep. Being a full time manMom has pretty much destroyed any sense of “sleeping in” I once had, and now, at 8:30 AM, I simply cannot send myself back to dreamland. And so I choose, crazily, to wake up before my family. The kids are still inexplicably zonked in their beds. My wife lay silent as the sea on a sunny, calm morning. This is just such a morning, and I decide to rise and greet it.

Sort of.

I decide first to practice morning waiting. I suppose there is my intentionality. To the bystander (who is not allowed in my bedroom, thank you very much) I may appear still sleeping, or even dead. Certainly motionless. But I am flittering across the border between wake and sleep, staring out my bedroom window thinking thoughts and praying prayers and preparing my soul for what my body is about to do. I spend so many mornings just this way, staring out this window, deciding not yet to rise but instead to lie still and wait. To wait for motivation to hit me like a bullet train. To wait for some external force to shake or pull me from my covers. To wait for today’s “eureka!” to fall upon me from the heavens. To wait for my own lazy self to tell my own lazy self it is time to get on with it. To begin today.

This window, the scene of so much waiting, is also the subject of today’s photo. It is an old, drafty window half made of glazed, hazy glass to obscure the view. It is the kind of window I need to switch out twice a year, at the passing of the seasons, swapping screens for glass and back again. It is partly covered in a thin veil of white curtain, half open and powerless against the blaze of morning sun. The photo is taken from a my pillow, just where my head would be on any given morning. Perhaps when it is developed I can pull it out in times of stress and strife to be magically transported to the comfort of my bed, in these warm sunrise hours, just waiting wonder-fully for the day ahead to swallow me whole.


No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: