There's being up and then there's getting up

I'm one of those folks that loves being up in the morning before the day really gets going. I got up just before 6 a.m. one day this week and walked through the neighborhood and the park to make my way to communion at 7 a.m.

Sweet bliss walking in the quiet. Once in awhile crossing paths with men walking their dogs, groups of women running - "on your right." Peeking into shops and seeing the woman at the Bagel Deli getting things in order, the baristas at the coffee shops preparing for the early risers and the rest of the day, delivery trucks at the grocery store. But, mostly quiet. People still in their beds or apartments, especially on the hill - this is not a neighborhood of morning go getters and me walking along hearing the sticks and leaves under my feet, my backpack moving around on my raincoat, sighing and smiling. The mornings in Seattle are pretty overcast, but there are those nice shades of blue grey.

I pretty much had the park to myself. Good morning all you beautiful trees and birds, flowers and dirt paths, still and moving waters. When I got to the end of the path through the park I turned around and bowed, kind of like John Cusack out in the street in Say Anything. Except I wasn't receiving silent ovation, I was expressing my gratitude. Thanks for being here, all the time.

If it's so enjoyable, if it's so life giving, if it's so damn la-la, why don't I just get up? I resist leaving my bed. I just lay there, sometimes awake for an hour or hours depending on the day of the week before I get up. I love waking up in bed. Curling up and settling in, rolling over to a new side, curling up, settling in. It's warm, so warm and soft. Good book or magazine nearby? The iPhone? Forgot it.

If I'm super honest though most days, not all days, but certainly most, it doesn't compare to those early morning hours walking, typing away at the coffee shop, doing yoga on the deck at Mercy Center, sitting at my dining table looking out the window or reading, stealing solo moments with friends and family, whispering prayers in the pews, standing in a circle around the altar serving each other the elements, feeling like I really entered into the world, I really lived today, held up my end of the conversation, made myself available for the unexpected, to receive hospitality. I was awake.