Not a morning person

I've had a bad cold for the last five days. Last week, I closed the store for two days to stay home and rest. I came back to work not because I was well but because I didn't want to keep the store closed any longer. Because of my cold, when I woke up this morning I had a sinus headache and a dry, sore throat, as well as a sense of unfinished work hanging over me. I croaked at my dog, "I am not looking forward to today." Then I thought, that's a fine way to start the day. So I said, "This is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it."

I got up, made coffee, and opened the blinds. Fishtrap Creek had flooded our back yard. This is by no means a disaster. Our back yard is a flood plain and, thanks to a retaining wall, the waters never approach the house. So I cultivated a mood of interest and observation. I even stepped outside onto the deck to take a good look and was soothed by an almost warm breeze. I watched the current flow around the trees, and, as always when the creek rises, I heard in my mind the Johnny Cash song, "How High's the Water, Mama?"

Later, walking my dog, I reflected that most mornings my waking mood is one of gloom and pessimism. From that starting point, I have to bring myself up to a reasonable level of cheer and optimism, which may peak in late afternoon. Then it's a gradual descent into either weariness or endurance and determination in the evening, occasionally supplemented by middle-of-the-night irrational anxiety. Is there any way I could wake up in the morning already feeling cheerful? I just don't think so. I am fearfully and wonderfully (as in, I wonder why) made. Overcoming a naturally melancholic disposition and learning to become tolerable company to myself and others is part of life's challenge for me.

I also noted how fortunate it is for my dog that my morning clouds don't affect him. He is a sunny extrovert when we rise. He knows that almost the first thing I will do is feed him, and that is a source of simple joy to him. He knows my routine and sits quietly and companionably with me while I have that necessary first cup of coffee. Once I finish, he demonstrates his happy trust that I will now get up and take him for his walk, and his expectant demeanor leads me to do so. Our walk makes him glad and does me good as well. He makes my ascent easier.