I used to be an early riser – meaning I’d get up before 6 a.m. I also used to sleep before 9 p.m. That was mainly because I had no life at 18, 19, 20 – oh well, I don’t quite have a life now ten years later (!),but I do have more responsibilities so sleeping at 9 is out.
The problem with being an early riser is that you need something to rise for. Early on in my marriage, I was jobless in California and did not have the wit to figure out how to pass time. If I woke up at my usual time, I would have to just sit there since my husband was a very later riser who would also go to bed only after 12 . We did not go pubbing nor have I ever seen the inside of a nightclub in my life. It was just watching movies or late night shows that kept us up. Since I had the whole day by myself to do nothing, I would get up at 9 or 10!! Loneliness used to hit me bad even with the books I got from the community library. I also was terrified of driving (we did not have a second car anyway) and heartily wished for autos or a snappier bus system or just anywhere to go within 2 miles. Thus started my slide into what eventually became a reluctance to get up early.
Back in India I had enough to keep me occupied. I had to get all my work done before my son woke up so I had to get up early. This was not easy because my son was chronically colicky and would go to sleep only at 3 in the morning. I also did not know how to play with a tiny kid and silence reigned in the household during the daytime – something I discovered was unnatural only much later.
After my daughter came along, I got used to getting up early enough to go through the same routine of finishing chores before the baby woke up but she was really easy to care for-a child who demanded responses and would never settle for silence. Her growth and easy achievement of milestones opened my eyes to the fact that I needed to find help for my son who so preferred silence to communication that I blamed myself for my earlier deficiencies as a mother.
Now when my son is 8 and my daughter 5, I have learned to relish the few moments of quiet I get early in the morning before I have to make breakfast and the chaos begins. I wish to wake up even earlier so that I can walk and rejuvenate myself for the day ahead. Mornings have taken a different meaning for me over the years. I was brought up with the ritual of prayer in the morning. I haven’t done that in a while. I find no time to pray in the hustle and bustle of a busy morning spent in the service of husband, kids and assorted maids. I recall how right it felt to start the day with an offering of flowers and a prayer in my mind. I must get back to it, so I can once again get back my lost mornings.
No comments:
Post a Comment