morning song
on being awake while you sleep
It’s 4am. I slip quietly out the front door, dog in tow. The two of us walk down the streets, footsteps echoing, shadowed by the moon. The houses I pass are darkened; there’s not another soul awake. It is still night for most people, a time where they would wake up, see what time it is and roll over for a few more hours of sleep. I’m out there breaking the silence, penetrating that night, disturbing the natural flow of things.
I am a morning person. I get out of bed while you sleep. I read, write, drink coffee, work, watch tv while you dream. I do this on purpose. The morning calls me.
I’ve been this way forever. Up before anyone else, shuffling quietly through the house so as not to wake those who sleep normal hours. The world outside is still and hushed. In the summer, with the windows open, I can hear the faint sounds of slumbering suburbia; air conditioners humming, sprinklers turning. During winter, there’s an extra layer to the quiet. The windows are closed, people insulated against the cold, against the dark. It’s just me here in the morning hours. I get a sense of wanted isolation. I am separate from the rest of the world. I am alone, in the best sense of the word.
Today, I listen to Yo La Tengo while I write. The music is my company, the only kind of company I want at 4am. This is my time, I own the morning. The hours between four and six belong to me and I can do anything I want with them. There’s no one to dictate my actions, no one talking to me, expecting answers of me, no one demanding my attention. The glow of the computer screen beckons me, tells me to spend that time writing and I do. This is when the words pour out of me, when there is nothing disturbing their movement.
Eventually the birds awaken, their chatter breaking the morning silence. A car drives past slowly, a newspaper lands with an unwelcome thud in my neighbor’s driveway. Lights flicker to life in houses, garbage trucks appear, the world is waking and I am no longer alone. It’s my signal to get moving; shower, breakfast, work. Life.
For a few hours, I had the world to myself. The moon, the stars, the quiet all belonged to me. There was not another soul in the world in those hours, not another heartbeat. There was just me, blanketed by silence and darkness, two things I normally fear, but in those early morning hours become my companions. From four to six I am fearless, I am brilliant, I am alive.
[this is a great song and you should listen to it]