When I sat down in the quiet, I thought about how the rest of the day never feels like this. I won't feel like this again until tomorrow morning. My brain revs up and presents things to me that make me uncomfortable. I experience demands on my time that I really would rather ignore. My day requires the concept of adult to be applied.... My weekends are so precious again....
Coffee will never taste as good, the silence will never be as complete, my mind will not be at peace as in the early morning. While I always feel like I want to sleep longer, I value my wake up time in the living room more. There are very VERY few people I enjoy sharing this time with- which sounds selfish, but hey! It is the truth. Grandchildren! I'd take any and all of them to snuggle and sit with.
This the time when I write the best, when I think the clearest and when I am the most at peace. My morning routine is my meditation and it is when I set my intentions for the day and when my first real strong feelings begin to occur- I always hope for the joy to crop up first. Sometimes it doesn't, but most often yes.
My zen is the morning.