|Sleep is always important... (kudos to Jessie for the photo)|
So I've always had this desire to savor the cushion of time. Why do I feel so disappointed when I wake up on my own, look at my watch, and see that it's 7:13? Even in the midst of being impressed with my body clock for being right on the money, I am irked with my sleeping-soundly self for only getting two minutes to enjoy it. (And again, growing up, poor Dad would get my grumpy self when he came in to wake me up for real and I had, in my sleepy bliss, totally forgotten that he had woken me up early.)
Before I began this morning routine - getting up at 7:15, no matter what - if I woke up two minutes before my alarm, I would just press SNOOZE. And SNOOZE and SNOOZE again. And then I would feel rushed for the rest of the morning, unable to take time to sit and savor. Because I'm coming to realize that savoring the waking moments is just as good (almost) as sliding back into sleep in the wee small hours. By giving myself more time to wake up, I feel like I give myself more to appreciate about the day. And that's a life-giving thing, no matter how tired I am at the start.