The Other People living in this house do not get up early enough. I am awake at 5:30 but if I don't have to go to work, I don't jump right out of bed. Wish I could be that disciplined because early morning is the best time for Thoughts.
Of which I had several Important Ones this morning.
Mum and I attended an Alzheimer's support group yesterday afternoon, not because we need it but because I'm writing a column about it and the coordinator wants to help me spread my message about the spirituality of Alzheimer's. So the sleeping hours, which for once were plenty and deep, produced some excellent Thoughts after I got out of bed, made my chai tea and sat in a chair to drink it (still not well enough to sit on the yoga mat).
That ritual is like flicking a light switch. It starts the thought process and I start writing it all down.
By seven o'clock, I could wait no longer to tell my mother what I had come up with and went upstairs to rap gently on her door. She answered, and she let me come in. She was still in bed but awake; I hadn't disturbed her. Not until I entered with my entourage who proceeded to jump onto the bed and all over her.
"Next time I scratch on the door, you won't answer," I said.
"No, there will just be silence," she answered.
"Well, then, I'll have to come in to make sure you're dead."
Pause.
"I mean, to make sure you're not dead."
It's not a Freudian slip, really, it's not.