Monastic Strategies: Waking Up on a November Morning

Waking Up on a November Morning

Waking up on a November morning is particularly challenging for me.

Our days are growing darker and cooler. We have changed to standard time and squandered all the daylight we supposedly saved over the summer. The sun is no longer shining in the corners of our windows to beckon us into a new day.

The year is drawing to a close and we have only a few more weeks to go. Waking up on a November morning does not encourage us like a January morning at the beginning of the year. It is not a spring morning with the promise of fresh enticements. It is certainly not Christmas morning.

On November mornings we stay in bed as long as we can, turning over and pulling the blankets around us. Putting things off just 15 minutes more will not really make that much difference, will it?

In November, particularly this year, we have settled in and want to stay put. We need our rest, and can justify staying in bed to read books.

We get the feeling, this year in particular, jumping out of bed to embrace the day will simply create new challenges.

The beauty and potential of waking up on a November morning seems lost in the fog of concerns and anxieties. This year has been so full of sorrow and difficulties mornings seem to have lost their appeal. It feels better, possibly safer, to stay in bed under the covers and avoid waking up, even if it is for just one day.

What, after all, is so great about waking up on a November morning? Why are we working so hard to get up and get going, to accomplish something?

This year it feels like staying asleep might be the more pleasant option.

What is So Great About Waking Up on a November Morning?

November can be a contemplative month.

Like contemplation, November is about letting go. Leaves fall from the trees. We let go of long, warm evenings and early mornings. The sounds of summer become quiet. Raking up the leaves which have inspired us, we begin to prepare for the challenges of winter.

We exchange the color of summer and autumn for the stark black and white of November. In Southern California, November is when it might begin to rain again.

The changes in our physical world prompt us to get in touch with our inner spiritual selves. Harvesting and assessing the fruits of the year, we prune back branches to try to become more productive in the future.

We have about six weeks left in this year. Some of us will push to fit everything we can into those next six weeks. Others will prepare to make next year more productive than this one.

Each morning is a precious gift. Choosing how we use them is a significant responsibility.

We may have spiritual practices which demand our attention. Some of us are trying to make up time we have missed on other mornings.

Each November morning is, like every morning, an opportunity to begin again.

We allow our sleeping and dreaming to clear away what we carry with us so we can start fresh. No matter what concerns or anxieties burden us, waking up on a November morning offers us hope.

Not all mornings unfold into happy experiences. Today may be the kind of day which is etched in our memories, which we cannot forget. While we cannot know in advance what will happen today, we do our best to make it a good day.

We Are Waking Up on a November Morning

Morning is when we wake up. We open our eyes, remember who we are, and embrace the day.

If we keep our eyes closed, we will not see.

Monastic mornings begin early, with light from the stars rather than the sun. We wake up and gather, in person or in spirit, for early morning prayer.

O God, come to our assistance. O Lord, make haste to help us.

Slowly we open our eyes and light begins to appear on our horizon.

We open our eyes in the dark and gradually awaken to the light around us, and within us.

Before breakfast, even before coffee, we begin waking up on a November morning.

Monastic mornings are times to appreciate, to awaken, to catch glimpses of the dawn. The light spreads, and our eyes are opened. We wake up to ourselves. Monastic mornings help bring us alive.

Even on mornings in November, we open ourselves to the possibilities of each new day.

Where will our celebration of today help us explore? How will our celebration of tomorrow morning be shaped by what we do today?

We begin each new day by waking up and opening our eyes.

Each of us chooses how we will celebrate every new morning all year long.

We Celebrate Waking Up on a November Morning

Many celebrations are built on traditions and extensive sets of rules and expectations. When we choose to celebrate each new morning we can celebrate each one however we want.

Not every day needs to be celebrated with fireworks or ornaments on a tree or enormous meals.

We may have particular ways of celebrating these mornings in November which we change for December. The ways we celebrate Sunday mornings could be different from how we celebrate Saturday mornings.

Choosing how we will celebrate each new morning is up to us. Some people celebrate particular days by eating special foods on those days. We may spend time with particular people to celebrate certain days.

Some of us mark the changing seasons when we celebrate. As autumn becomes more contemplative, we might celebrate more contemplatively. We greet sunlight differently than the dark.

Each day, each morning, is filled with potential and possibilities, including mornings in November.

How will we celebrate waking up on a November morning today?

Who will we invite to join us to celebrate waking up on a November morning this week?

[Image by Kurt Stocker]

Greg Richardson is a spiritual life mentor and coach in Southern California. He has served as an assistant district attorney, an associate university professor, and is a lay Oblate with New Camaldoli Hermitage near Big Sur, California. Greg’s website is StrategicMonk.com and his email address is StrategicMonk@gmail.com.