On Friday of last week, I somehow managed to wake up in the morning two hours before my first alarm. This is not a usual occurrence. But there I was, lying awake with my eyes open and no desire to roll back over in bed. Once I had processed that I was awake, my mind thought about all that I could do with these two hours. I still had time to go outside for a jog. Or I could go to the coffee shop and maybe buy an overpriced latte. At the very least, I could slide out of bed and put some clothes on. Even that minimum amount of effort would be a more productive start to my day.

I laid in bed and looked up at the light beginning to come through the blinds in the windows above my bed. I thought about how cold it must be outside and how warm and comfortable it was under my blanket. I thought about how I would have to put on clothes to go outside and how I really wasn’t feeling ready for that.

I flipped over in bed, curled my body into a ball, and pulled the blankets up to my chin. I felt happy to have made it to Friday, but it was a quiet kind of happy. I was tired but grateful. It had been a productive week in a new role which was really taxing my brain in a way that felt good but challenging. By this point in the week, I was fatigued from the efforts of the previous days.

As I continued to lay in bed, I thought about all I still had to do in the work day ahead of me. The list was a bit longer than usual, but also mostly filled with administrative tasks. I felt confident I could get it all done. I would just need to be mindful of my time and stay organized.

Compiling this mental check list sent a sudden surge of motivation through my body, prompting me out of bed. I headed straight to the kitchen to make and retrieve a cup of instant coffee. I made it extra strong and added in a sweetener packet. I brought the steaming mug back to my bedroom, set it on my nightstand and crawled back into bed. I draped myself in blankets once again.

For a few moments after getting back into bed, I simply stared out the window at the light coming into my room. During that time, I felt at peace with myself and I felt grateful for that quiet moment. I loved having a moment to be able to just be with myself and exist. To be able to bask in the inherent pleasure in being alive while at peace felt like a precious gift. Of course, it is always a gift to be in a state of peace, but I am not always able to recognize that in the moment. But on that day, I did.

I spent so much time basking in this feeling while staring out the window and sipping coffee, that before I knew I had less than 30 minutes until the start of my workday. I realized then that I wouldn’t be leaving bed before I had to shuffle to my work laptop and that that was ultimately fine by me. Even though the morning was not productive, it had not been wasted.