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In Praise of 5 a.m.
On writing with children when you’re not a morning person by nature
When I first began to ask women about their writing lives once they had children, five o’clock in the morning came up a lot.
My internal response was anguish. Is rising at an ungodly hour what a creative life would require? Take my body, my independence, and sleeping in on Saturdays. But to forgo additional sleep in order to maintain an identity as an artist, seemed a tall, rather cruel order.
I am not a morning person. Were I someone who expressed her feelings through t-shirts and mugs, I would have the one cautioning others not to speak to me until I’ve consumed two cups of coffee.
This is not a quality I’m proud of. I have for most of my adult life tried to trick and con myself into falling in love with what Thoreau called the heroic hour. I read advicey listicles and books about changing habits, downloaded apps that promised to sync with my circadian rhythms, and set goals I failed to achieve. As deeply ingrained as my Protestant work ethic may be, my bed called. Percale sheets, linen quilt, down duvet. Sleep was my companion, my escape, my cheapest luxury, my dream life.
I wished this were not so. I cursed my lazy bones. I beatified early risers and insomniacs. Oh, what I could do with those…
