I’m an early bird. I can’t help it. Even when I want to sleep in, I can’t. My body considers 9 am to be late. Sadly, or unfortunately, my dog is an even earlier “early” bird than I am. This past morning, he wanted to be walked at 4am. Considering that I get up so early each day, one would think my favorite time of the day is the early morning. I used to take photographs of sunrises. It was so beautiful and calming to photograph each day’s morning sunrise. I often shared those photos with others, hoping to inspire others with a sense of renewed purpose. Each day matters. Each day matters.

However, the morning is not my favorite time of the day. My sweetspot is 9pm. It’s right when I get to settle and sink into the couch. It’s when I cast my cell phones to the side. It’s when I surf the streaming services for a gritty homicide drama often set in Scandinavia somewhere. Moody. Cold. Broken. Justice-driven. I catch a new show, take a bath, and just am. The dogs besides me. My mind completely focused on the drama before me on the television set instead of the drama in my life.

That is a good point in time. No expectations of me. No calls. No hunger. Quiet noise keeping me in a zen zone.