I keep a morning journal. It is one of my favorite things. Usually within thirty minutes to an hour after getting up from bed, I sit down with my pocket sized, blank paged blue notebook and my blue extra fine marker or rollerball pen, write “Good morning,” then proceed with something or absolutely nothing to say.
I don’t really have a purpose for my beloved morning journal. I begin with a thought and sometimes end up somewhere completely different, just a moment later as my pen reaches the end of the short page. Other times, it is surprisingly well thought out, on the spot.
It does have one consistent purpose that is never lost on me: it begins my day. It is for the morning. It is what I do before I set out into the world. It is one way that I link one day to the next. That link captured by that moment, every morning. That one pause for breathe. That one good morning.