The Battle to Wake Up

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I’ve always been jealous of my father’s ability to wake up and bolt out of bed. Growing up, I don’t remember a single morning where he slept in. Whereas I can comfortably cocoon myself with bedsheets until noon.

Waking up is a challenge for me. Assaulted by thoughts before even being fully conscious, my mind prefers to batten down the hatches, rather than swinging my feet out of bed and being vulnerable to the upcoming day.

Holi likes to be on my chest.

Holi likes to be on my chest.

This morning was a slog. Sure, my body was secure in the warm embrace of my comforter, and my cat was purring contentedly on my chest, but this pesky alarm that I had set for 5:20AM went off and spoiled the mood. Instead of trying to jump out of bed, which I regularly fail at doing, I put some relaxing music on and spent ten or fifteen minutes petting my cat. She appreciated the attention, and that small amount of movement was enough to rev my engine.

Still not fully awake, nor caring to be awake, I turned on my bedside lamp. With some light shining into my eyes I felt motivated enough to have a conversation with myself. Reminding myself that it was okay to feel tired first thing in the morning; that tiredness, in an of itself, is not indicative of a depression. It was necessary to talk out my frustrations at being awake before sunrise, and I also had to battle my feelings of personal failure at not being able to get out of bed easily.

For reasons I have yet to fully understand, I see not bounding out of bed with a smile on my face as some sort of condemnation on my work ethic. It’s incredibly demoralizing to start the day thinking that you already failed, and I face that perception of failure most mornings. What’s worse is that I have believed that thought for years. Well, this morning I challenged that belief, got myself out of bed, and made my way to a coffee shop to get ready for a day of treatment. The inspiration for this article came from a poem by Danna Faulds that reminded me that it is okay to start slow; just make sure to keep going.

“Why wait for your awakening?

The moment your eyes are open, seize the day.

Would you hold back when the Beloved beckons?

Would you deliver your litany of sins like a child's collection of sea shells, prized and labeled?

"No, I can't step across the threshold," you say, eyes downcast.

"I'm not worthy, I'm afraid, and my motives aren't pure."

"I'm not perfect, and surely I haven't practiced nearly enough."

"My meditation isn't deep, and my prayers are sometimes insincere."

"I still chew my fingernails, and the refrigerator isn't clean."

Do you value your reasons for staying small more than the light shining though the open door?

Forgive yourself.

Now is the only time you have to be whole.

Now is the sole moment that exists to live in the light of your true Self.
Perfection is not a prerequisite for anything but pain.

Please, oh please, don't continue to believe in your disbelief.

This is the day of your awakening.”