There's something quite majestic about the early morning.
As a kid growing up, I have fond memories of being unable to resist the urge to jump out of bed as early as 6:oo AM to go watch Saturday morning cartoons or play the N64 with my two older brothers. While vacationing at the shore in North Carolina, I'd wake with the rising Sun to venture out to the beach for an early, chilly stroll or jog. Nothing seemed to have beaten the time of day when the Sun would warm the goose bumps rolling across my arms in the middle of a blistering Summer season.
And even today as I woke earlier than usual and stood looking at the serene setting of a rising Sun, bathing the Earth and everything resting upon it in a swath of golden light, I am reminded of the feelings I had when rising as a kid with my brothers or with the ocean tides.
Perhaps it's the newness, the promise of a whole day laid out before me—a blank canvas awaiting me, the artist, to give life to the creation resting dormant within my very being—that wakes me with the rebirth of a new day. Sometimes it’s simply the memories of so many happy mornings of years before, where I’d wake no later than 8:oo AM and venture down to the main floor of my house where my mom had already opened the windows and allowed the fresh, cool summer breeze to run through our home, breathing life itself back into an otherwise stale AC-contained bubble justly separated from Summer’s boiling and unforgiving midday.
The smell of plants shedding the dew of the previous night’s cooler temperatures is something irreplaceable to my palate—be it by a new and equally stunning scent, or replicated by an artificial source. And even though the smell changes slightly from day to day, the morning still retains the inert freshness within the confides of its aroma, thus remaining completely familiar, re-engaging, and new all at once.
It’s the rebirth of life itself.
Plants blossom and stretch to reach for the warmth and energy the Sun provides unselfishly for the Earth. People wake and take the first steps of the new day, re-establishing their presence among our collective consciousness thus verifying, “I and we exist.” Animals, too, awaken and search for the day’s first meal, breaking the fast of their slumber and providing the much-needed energy to continue living life simply for the sake of living life.
How appropriate, then, it is for me to be excited in the morning and feel the various energies of the Universe again, all due to the rising Sun. And though these emotions, feelings, and thoughts are completely relative to an otherwise much darker, hollow, and infinite Universe, it still remains valid to witness the new day as a rebirth in that it rebirths my consciousness to be aware of the Universe’s vastness all over again as I was the previous day, and the previous day, and so forth. As the Sun rises I awaken to realize and behold the Sun, the Earth, and the Universe from whence it all once came, and I rejoice—no matter how minimally—in this simple and undying truth that is present in the picturesque moment I witness of the early morning sunrise, bathing the Earth and everything upon it in a swath of golden light.
There is indeed something quite majestic about the early morning.