Today, I want to write about why I do this—why I wake up early and take the trouble to get up, go upstairs, and make some coffee. I’ve been wondering about this these past few days. Why make myself go through it? Why not just stay in bed and sleep an extra hour? Such a nice, soft, warm bed. Every day I tell myself the same thing: “You’ll feel much better if you do!” And it’s true! I don’t know of any tonic that’s as good for my mood, energy, and mental health as a solid hour of writing in the morning before life starts. It feels like a luxury, really, having the time to do this, and I’m grateful. It’s just me, the sunrise, my dog sitting next to me, and the sound of the pen as it scratches meaning on paper, echoing in the silent dining room. I’ve been writing this way for a bit over a year now. Mostly, I write in my journal, and lately (literally these past week or so) I’ve started writing for m