Author’s note: Yes, I know… a lot of people in the world get up long before 6AM. And some even like it. Me, it feels like the biggest battle I’ll ever fight in my life. The struggle is real, friends!
There is nothing like the pain of being jarred from sleep by your alarm clock. When the sun hasn’t come up yet, and all the rest of the house is quiet, and, for good measure, it’s raining outside, the gentle showers playing a lullaby on the roof and windows. And in that moment of waking up, you’ve never felt more exhausted.
It doesn’t matter how early you went to bed the night before. Each new morning is World War III. You pray for the strength of will to haul your lazy bones out from beneath the nice, warm covers and begin your day. You’ve argued with yourself many times on this: you know you must get up this early if you hope to get any writing done because you simply Do Not Have Time once the day has begun.
But sometimes, at 6AM, you have no strength of will.
On those days, you go through the rest of the day regretting your choice to hit snooze and roll over, and you tell yourself that tomorrow, you’ll do better. But each new tomorrow becomes a bigger fight, and by Friday you no longer care because the weekend’s almost here and the weekend’s your chance to finally sleep in and not feel guilty.
That first minute after your alarm goes off is always the hardest. It’s in that first minute that you must choose . . . before you’re fully awake, before you’re really thinking clearly: Are you going to win this battle today? Are you even going to fight it in the first place?
Because if you can’t learn to will yourself in this one small thing, how will you ever find the will to accomplish bigger things?
As soon as you’ve cleared the hurdle, pulled yourself from the warm, safe, comfortable covers and opened your laptop, you feel good . . . like you’ve taken your first small step toward success. And as you sit there writing, with your cat curled up in your lap, and listen to the rain playing its melody, you can’t help but wonder . . .
Why do you fight this every morning?