The bubble of light in a dark room. I love it!
It’s now still a little dark when I get up at 5:30am in Seattle — dark enough for me to eat breakfast by the light of my desk lamp.
I used to love working at this hour. A couple of years ago, I had a part-time job that started at eleven. Rather than sleeping in, I got up early so as to put in some time on projects of my own. If I needed a WiFi connection I went to my neighborhood Starbucks as soon as it opened at 6am. I made quite a habit of it in January and February. There was something wonderfully comforting about the early morning walk in the dark and rain — with only the most committed of dog walkers and joggers out and about. And even though Starbucks was doing a fair amount of business at this hour, most customers were just doing a quick pick-up-and-go — and the seating was wide open. I always got my favorite table. Every now and then, I’d look up from my laptop and see the scene had changed — the line at the counter was longer — most of the tables were occupied — the crowd waiting for the next bus to downtown was bigger — and it was getting light outside. Then came the spring morning when it was getting light as I arrived at Starbucks — and I abandoned the routine.
A long time ago, a friend of a friend offered to do a psychic reading for me. He was supposed to be painting our bathroom — but he thought it was too nice of a fall day to be working indoors and talked me into taking a hike up Mount Wachusett (Massachusetts, USA.) He did the reading at the summit.
He saw me in several past-life (so I assume) situations — but one in particular really grabbed me — working as a scribe in a monastery — toiling away by candle light — working on a project that was a true labor of love — living a life of devotional service. I was working on my doctoral dissertation at the time — spending hours in that little bubble of light over my desk — and loving it.
I doubt I would enjoy NaNoWriMo so much if it happened in the summer instead of November.