Early mornings; quiet. Silence and solitude; my companions. I start most of my days on the yoga mat. Half an hour, twenty minutes. Whatever feels right.
A glass pitcher of Chinese herbal tea cools on the kitchen table. Overnight Greek yogurt with chia seeds. I go wild with the fruit toppings. Instead of a grey January sky, I am welcomed by sunny, blue weather.
I soak up the sun’s energy. I work through my sequences slowly, but surely. Flexibility is the only aspect I am actively working on. Strength will come with time. My body craves the time on the mat. My mind needs it.
My love for mornings came last summer. I slept outside for over 80 consecutive days, on my terrace, breathing the fresh salty air while sleeping, looking up at the stars when awake. For me, this is the definition of luxury. I regularly woke up with the sun, which in the middle of summer was at 4.15 am. So, I slept outside. For three months. It is last summer that I became a morning person.
I pulled through winter. It was a tough battle. Because I am not okay when it’s pitch dark at five in the afternoon. When it’s dark at eight in the morning. When it’s constantly cold and the sun is a rare occurrence. I am not okay. I drown. I do not function as a human being. I only want to sleep, eat unhealthy food, and sleep.
But, now. With spring, I have awoken. I wake up and go to bed with the sun. Produce markets are popping up all over Prague. I walk on the street with boxes of fresh strawberries, blueberries, and blackberries and a bundle of bananas on top of it. I purchase carrots and let the long leafy ends hang outside from my backpack.
Cherry trees and flowers are blooming; the trees are dressed in their young green. The streets of my neighborhood have transformed into a jungle in comparison to what winter was. There are no longer any brown mountains of tree skeletons. Only life.
Everything is alive and so am I.
I am grateful.