Morning Is Too Precious

My mom never let us watch television in the morning when we were growing up. At the time it probably had to do more with getting us out the door on time than anything else, but as always, there was wisdom behind my mother’s many rules.

In the past few months, sucked into politics like so many concerned Americans on both sides of the aisle, I got into the habit of rolling out of bed and switching on what my father often called the Idiotbox.  Worse yet, I would use the television as background noise while I was perusing social media.

I had stumbled onto a recipe for mediocrity.

This Independence Day weekend, all four days of it, is a fine time to contemplate one’s life and make proper course corrections, much like the holidays than define the end of one calendar year and the beginning of the next.

Because I know deprivation leads to overindulgence (ask any crash dieter) I will not forbid myself these media indulgences. Instead, I will allow myself to wallow in them at the end of the day when my mind needs to start to shut down anyway.

Mornings, when I am fresh and alert, are now reserved for reading (the gathering of wisdom and knowledge) and writing (the creative expression of one’s gained wisdom and knowledge).

And maybe some good music.

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