I've been trying to wake up at five thirty all week, and like every week, on some random day, I actually did it. It happened to be Friday, of all days.
I usually don't remember what I'm supposed to be doing. I haven't been sitting much Zazen, so it doesn't come to mind. It came to mind this morning when I remembered the church bells ring at 6- so it would be a perfect half hour to sit for. It's a start for now. I've lost my morning routine. I've been going to work around 7:40.
Mornings are really important to me. The best mornings I remember were the ones I spent in Alaska. I was alone, the cabin was small, and I wrote up a storm. There was no access to coffee, so green tea was the norm, and I remember how quiet the mountains were. I'd read anything! I ran out of books about two months in my trip, and at one point I found myself reading a 1,000 page text about science.
I had these long morning that started at 4:30 or so. I'd feed the sled dogs and let them digest until 7, and then we would run. Sometimes I wonder why I ever left. To crest hills through Aspens and watch the northern lights play in the sky until 9am was celestial. I guess the only thing it was missing was people.
Now I have tons of people and no mountains. I'll see 100 students today. They'll each have a question. Not sure what I'll say.