Sometimes I wish I were a morning person. Morning people, I reason, must be more optimistic. Waking up at the start of a new day, when the sun is just starting to shine, birds are singing, the air is fresh and a whole new day is ahead, getting a head start on living life...has to be were optimism exists.
I am not a morning person. I'm a night owl by nature. I've stared out into the quiet night time after time as the city quieted. Eyes wide open, pondering the days events, struggling to quiet the stresses of the day that continue to swim around in my mind. I know it only perpetuates an exhaustion of mind, body and soul that continues to drain me of energy day after day.
I'm a cynic, a skeptic, suspicious, and lets just say it, pessimistic about life and everything surrounding it.
Negativity. It can influence those around me quite easily if I don't keep it checked, and that a strain all on its own.
On the rare occasion that I do wake with the sun, I have this feeling that joy does come in the morning.
Morning light is so warm. The morning dew is so refreshing. And I could swear that hope seems to calmly blow in the early morning breeze.
How glorious the morning is when the day awakens. Optimism surely exists in the morning. Regret and longing seem to be things of the night. Melancholy, I believe, is a close friend of those two.
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