December 11: "Why I Wake Early," Crazy Hours, Good Night

How Mary Oliver starts her days . . . 

Why I Wake Early

by:  Mary Oliver

Hello, sun in my face.

Hello, you who make the morning

and spread it over the fields

and into the faces of the tulips

and the nodding morning glories,

and into the windows of, even, the

miserable and the crotchety--

best preacher that ever was,

dear star, the just happens

to be where you are in the universe

to keep us from ever-darkness,

to ease us with warm touching,

to hold us in the great hands of light--

good morning, good morning, good morning.

watch, now, how I start the day

in happiness, in kindness.

I wake early, like Mary Oliver.  I don't, however, do it to start my day in happiness or kindness.  I do it because my son has to get to school and my wife to work.  Seeing sunrises is not a choice I make.  It is a happy benefit of the crazy hours that I keep.

As I sit on my couch typing this post, I can sense exhaustion overtaking me.  It has been a long day, and tomorrow's going to be a long day, and the next day after that, as well.  My long days aren't going to end until well past Christmas.  

This morning, I received an email from one of my best friends.  He attended a Zoom poetry workshop I led last night.  The theme for the workshop was "joy."  My friend apologized for not writing about joy in response to any of my writing prompts during the workshop.  Instead, he wrote very real, very human reflections about his unquiet spirit and mind.  

Tonight, I received an email from another of my best friends.  We've known each other for over 40 years.  She's been struggling with health issues, children issues, spouse issues.  Recently,, she spent several days in the hospital recovering from meningitis.  In her email, she talked about darkness, as well.  Of juggling eight balls at once, trying not to drop a single one of them.  Of craving rest and peace.

These two best friends are kind people.  Loving people.  Creative people.  They care about the mess of the world deeply.  And, like me, they don't put up with bullshit.  Yes, we love sunrises.  Yes, we think Donald Trump is a criminal.  Yes, we would do anything for each other.  My friends' emails were tonics to my tired spirit.

I will wake early again tomorrow morning.  Drive east, into the rising sun.  Smile and try to keep the darkness at bay.

But, right now, Saint Marty says good night to the world.  Good night, good night, and good night