Poetry forces me to attend to every word it requires me to think, carefully, about what’s happening, and what it means. I’m a fast reader, but I cannot read a poem quickly. (Especially not the crime novel I’m currently racing through.) To wind down quickly at the end of a long day, I’ve been relying on a little trick a friend gave me years ago: turn to poetry. I have a well-established routine of reading before bed to decompress, but if I need to fall asleep fast I can’t read just anything. ( Sleep is not an area where I can afford to be low-maintenance.) My bedtime is now uncomfortably close to my children’s.
These past two weeks I’ve been rediscovering just how much I can get done in the wee hours (thanks to the two-hour jump on my kids) before it feels like the day’s truly begun.Īs much as I love my morning shot of productivity, there’s a big drawback to getting up at 5:00 a.m.: I need to go to bed early.
I’ve been acquainted with the pre-dawn hours regularly throughout my life, but not much in the past six months. Now that Will and I are done staying up crazy late binge-watching Blacklist, I’ve been reclaiming the 5:00 a.m.
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