Sitting down on the pillowed chair, supported by a solid wood frame that is painted black and purchased from the surplus warehouse, the house is quiet for a moment. The curtains are shut and there are only a few lights on; dimmed just enough to see. In front of me is a blue journal with the matching ribbon sticking out of its pages to indicate the blank page that will stare me down this morning.

Sleep is still in my eyes and the brain is foggy. It’s barely 6am, but my daughter is happily enjoying a glass of warm milk while watching cartoons. She will be appeased for the next fifteen to twenty minutes until her stomach hangers for breakfast.

Beside the book is a fresh cup of coffee, cooling just enough to take a few sips and get my system working. A grey canister pen, specially ordered from Japan with accompanying refills, makes its way into my fingers.

The book opens to the blank page and before the resistance every writer faces to shutdown at seeing such an empty canvas, I put the date at the top and immediately write:

“How am I going to be a better person today than yesterday?”

Then it’s time to be honest and see where the first thoughts of the morning take me. All the lingering threads of yesterday flow through the ink and onto the page. My hand works hard to keep up with my mind, but since it cannot, some thoughts disappear and my brain is forced to hold on to others. It’s getting a morning workout in focus.

Thoughts flow, the pen writes, the paper fills and the coffee cup empties.

At the end of the page, I offer up a simple prayer.

I click the pen shut, close the book and drain the last few sips from the mug. Suddenly, my disgruntled morning has transformed into an energizing part of my day.

It’s time to open the curtains to the world and make some breakfast.