Mornings

 The quiet of the early morning is sacred to me. It’s that gentle, untouched part of the day when everything feels softer, and the noise of the world is still hushed. Before phones start buzzing, emails come through, or even before I hear another human voice, I start my day with a ritual of tea and reading. It’s simple, but it’s a deeply rooted practice that grounds me, setting the tone for the hours to come.

The ritual begins the moment I reach for my favorite teapot. I measure out loose-leaf tea, breathing in its earthy aroma as I pour the leaves into a small strainer. There’s something so comforting about these small steps — measuring, pouring, waiting — and as the water begins to heat, I can feel the sense of calm already settling over me. While I wait for the water to boil, I prepare my space, choosing a spot where the morning light streams in. I love how the day’s first light seems to wrap itself around me, like a gentle invitation to be fully present.

When the tea is ready, I pour it slowly, letting its warmth rise through my hands and into my chest. Tea isn’t just a drink for me; it’s an offering to the morning, a moment to acknowledge the day ahead with intention and gratitude. As I sip, I feel that warmth spread, waking me up gently, each sip a reminder to savor what’s here, to move slowly, to let the day unfold without rushing in too quickly.

With my tea beside me, I pick up a book — usually poetry or something spiritual. I’m drawn to words that invite reflection, words that don’t just fill my mind but seem to nourish something deeper. In the mornings, I want a quiet that comes from within, a kind of inner spaciousness. These texts do just that; they help me start my day with depth and meaning rather than mindlessly scrolling or diving into tasks. Sometimes it’s Marianne Williamson or Rumi; sometimes, it’s the wisdom of a spiritual teacher, their words grounding me in a larger perspective.

Reading in the early morning feels like a form of meditation. I notice myself softening with each line, letting go of yesterday’s worries and tomorrow’s concerns. My mind becomes calm and still, able to take in each word without the usual rush or distractions. I’m not reading to finish a book or check something off a list — I’m reading to start my day with thoughtfulness, to remember what’s important, to connect with a quiet wisdom that often gets lost in the noise of daily life.

In this space, I’m able to reflect on my own life, to feel gratitude for what I have, and even to sit with any struggles I’m currently facing. It’s like these morning moments create room for whatever I need to feel or understand. Some mornings, I feel a burst of inspiration; others, a calm acceptance; and sometimes, I just feel still, which is exactly what I need.

This practice — tea, reading, reflection — is how I connect with myself each day. It’s my way of touching base with what really matters before life pulls me in countless directions. By the time I finish, I feel nourished, centered, and ready to meet whatever the day holds. This quiet, intentional beginning reminds me to carry a bit of that slowness, that depth, into everything I do.

As I stand up, placing my empty teacup in the sink and closing my book, I feel a quiet sense of strength. This ritual may only take twenty minutes, but its impact lingers throughout my day, like an anchor I can return to when life gets chaotic. I carry with me the wisdom of the words I read, the calm of those first few sips, and a deep sense of gratitude for the simple beauty of morning.

~Shanti Freedom Das