Back in my teenage years and during my university days, I was an excitable early bird. I’d rise with the morning sun, loving the peace of being awake before the rest of my busy family. The sunrise was my reward—a daily golden display that marked the beginning of what I believed to be the best part of the day. My mind was sharp, well-rested, and eager to soak up knowledge like a sponge. Mornings were my prime time for revision, learning, and generally feeling on top of the world. In the summer holidays, I could be found sitting in the living room listening to music or devouring my latest read.
Skip forward three decades, and let’s just say my love affair with early mornings has lost its spark. These days, my studying is limited to moments when I encounter patients with rare or intriguing conditions, or when I’m teaching my colleagues. Waking up early, once my superpower, has become more of an arduous ask. My mornings are now dominated by an insane early commute, with my alarm crushing my soul at 4:45 a.m. If I’m lucky, I’ll manage to drag myself out of bed by 5:30, but unlike my younger self, I’m still wrapped in a heavy blanket of tiredness.
On a good day, if I’m feeling particularly organised, I might assemble a light breakfast and retreat to the conservatory for a few moments of relative peace.
It’s a small victory, providing just enough mental resilience to brace myself for the carnage that is the M25 these days. I sit there, sipping my hot drink of choice, gazing at the garden, and focusing on the green plants like they hold the secret to surviving another day. The distant rumble of traffic is a reminder that the world is waking up. Sometimes, the neighbour’s cat strolls through the garden, acting like our little patch of England, is their own fiefdom. We’ve had our share of staring contests, that cat and I, as I contemplate the day ahead with a mixture of dread and resignation. Those quiet mornings, when the rest of the household is still blissfully asleep, are precious—they afford me a sense of calm that is priceless.
Lately, I’ve taken to sitting on the sofa in the living room, practicing my new mindfulness technique—the 54321 Grounding Technique. It’s a small attempt to combat the feeling of being wrung out by the demands of work, which have been draining my energy like a leaky battery.
On the days when I don’t have to commute, I indulge in a ‘lie-in,’ which my older and considerably wearier self cherishes. Turning off the alarm and basking in the relief of no commute feels like a small triumph, though it does feel a bit like wasting a perfectly good morning. More often than not, I’m just exhausted—from a busy weekend, from work the previous day, from life in general. But occasionally, just occasionally, I manage to rise early, if only to get a head start on work. Mornings are the best time to blitz through clinical queries, dictate or correct my never-ending pile of clinic reports, and tackle emails (yes, I’m *that* person…).
I think it’s safe to say I’m currently sleep-deprived, chronically tired, and increasingly agitated and stressed from work, which has been insidiously wearing me down over the past few months, sapping my energy and enthusiasm. Waking up early is no longer a choice but a necessity, and when it’s not my choice, I find it much less enjoyable. Still, I do my best to make the most of it. All is not lost, though—I’ve made a grand plan for the rest of the year: to get more sleep. 😹😹😹 Yes, I know…
I have a sneaking suspicion that if I could just get some quality sleep, I’d have more energy, and I might even start looking forward to getting out of bed instead of dreading it. Clearly, the key to a good morning is what happens the night before. My problem, however, is bedtime procrastination. I’m tired, but I still want to stay awake and do all the things I couldn’t do during the day because of work. It would make more sense to stop doing that and instead maximize the early morning hours when I’m at my best.
I’ll leave you with this beautiful word that entered my Instagram feed (probably when I was indulging in time wasting instead of sleeping!). Soubhiyé. It is a Lebanese word, which among other interpretations appears to denote the peace and tranquility of the early morning. I happened to share this post with a colleague and she agreed it was a beautiful time of the day and when they started their morning prayers. There must be something very sacred at that first part of the day, I should not waste any more time missing out on it.
