My alarm buzzes in my left ear and I know the sun has just risen. I turn it off. Either that or I choose to sleep another five minutes. I lie in my bed, the comforter pulled up to my neck, warmth making it hard to move. But as the sun peeks through my blinds and creates window shadows on my floor and prism rainbows on my ceiling, I am more motivated. I get up, I make my bed, I pull my blinds, basking in the light of the morning. I watch as a couple cars go speeding down my street, no doubt on the way to work, wherever that might be. I wonder often what everyone is doing, where they're headed, what's on their mind. In the kitchen the coffee calls out my name so I go, knowing my day will officially begin when I take my first sip. I stand in front of the coffee pot, my feet cold and bare on the tiled floor. I watch as the water passes through the filter and grounds, turning into a deep, dark mixture in the basin below. The steam rises, swirling until it disappears. The light blinks off on the machine, warning me I can remove the pot and pour my coffee into one of my favorite ceramic mugs. Creamer and sugar are added because I have yet to understand how anyone could love black coffee. I walk back to my haven, hugging the mug tight to me. My room is even sunnier now that a few minutes have passed. My room sits on the corner of our house, with windows on the east and west sides, so I get the morning and afternoon sun. I sit down in my white, linen chair, and pop my feet up on the ottoman. I read a couple chapters in the Word, hoping to apply something I learn to the day ahead. I journal whatever is on my heart, usually involving how I need to be content with where I am in that moment. I think that's why I start my mornings off in the corner of my room, the sun shining on my legs, with my leather Bible open in my hands. I need to put my life into perspective. How easily my mind wanders, how easily I wish for things I don't need, how easily I want to be somewhere else, how easily I tell myself I'm not good enough, how easily I believe the lies. After I put away my Bible, journal, and black pen, I feel complete. Now I can set out on my day, whatever it might entail. I may run a package to UPS, I may update my website, I may edit photos at Starbucks, I may get in my car and go exploring, or I may take a day, sit in my ENO, and read a book. I think it's habit to tell ourselves we're lazy or we're not working unless we're running around or sitting in a cubicle, but I disagree. I love to do. It makes me feel accomplished. But I also love to spend time to myself, renewing, refreshing, rejuvenating, and not feeling guilty. This year I prepare for busy. I prepare for less time to myself. I prepare for long days on my feet shooting. I know the slow season of winter soon will end and this time will be scarce so I take advantage of it, feeding my introverted self with days like today. But it's days like today where I have time to fully understand my love for photography. It's days when I don't shoot that I miss it so. It's days like today that leave me ready for the next one, ready for an adventure, ready for whatever life throws at me. It's days like today, where spring makes an appearance and I long for much more, trusting my story is being written and that these are the days that I'll wish I could someday have back.