Why are morning rituals so important to me?

I like to ease myself into the day, a sort of relaxation between sleep and work. For the benefit of a possible future self that I hope never comes into existence – one with some form of dementia – I like to have morning rituals that I enjoy and which become almost instinctive and which I might, with hope, enjoy even if I become confused.

Dementia is a worse-case scenario and one I hope will never come to pass. I enjoy my mornings whatever happens to me in the future; they embody a sense of purpose and hope for the day ahead, a period of certainty in advance of the uncertainty of the unfolding day. Uncertainty is a word that can be loaded with negativity and potential doom, but not for me. I like the thought that the day ahead belongs to me, a space in which I can, to put it colloquially, do what I want when I want to do it.

In general, I have enjoyed this luxury only since retirement, which is more-or-less when I ceased to be governed by the clock and by a mindless and vindictive drone of an employer. Not all of my employers have been like that, but the one I had for the final ten years of my working life certainly was, which has had the unexpected effect of ensuring I enjoy retirement even more than I would have done under better circumstances.

Mornings are my own, a place for me to soothe into the rest of the day and enjoy one or two simple luxuries, like good cappuccino. The routine is nearly always the same: out of bed, make tea, open curtains and blinds, toilet, wash, weigh, dress, blood pressure reading – then relax with a coffee and iPad. Get my ‘morning thoughts’ on paper – or in this case, screen. Some days I write just one paragraph. On others thoughts bounce around in my head and topple over one another faster than my fingers can type. The writing spark has ignited and I know to stick with it until it fades – or another spark fires up – because otherwise those thoughts have a tendency to wander off into oblivion, rarely to be seen again.

A second cappuccino. I always have a second cappuccino. The motivation for this has been lost; is it because I really like cappuccino or is it because the minimum quantity of milk the steam wand will stretch and foam is enough for two? One thing is for sure: the second coffee is always a different blend. That is a big advantage of Nespresso.

I love coffee. My two morning cappuccinos are followed later in the morning by black coffee, usually Americano but occasionally lungo or even espresso. When the second cappuccino is finished and the writing flame fading into the background my morning ritual is over. I can now make the bed or load the washing machine or clean the bathroom in any order I choose and at any time I wish. The special becomes the mundane and luxury gives way to work. But the luxury has set me up well, to the point where I am oblivious to mundanity and continue my enjoyment of the day. And then the doorbell rings.

8th October 2024
09:48, Newton Abbot, Devon, 14ºC, grey sky, light breeze, light rain.