On Morning and Becoming

Updated: Oct 7, 2020

Like a perfectly timed clock, every morning between 4 and 5AM, my eyes simply open, on their own, with no external ‘Voices of Nature’, ‘Anticipation’ or ‘Life’s Good’ prompt from a ringtone. With what seems to be deliberate and methodical, my eyes open, and look up toward the ceiling, as if they know something I have yet to discover.

Protected from all things unimportant with the comforter tucked beneath my chin, around the back of my shoulders, and my eyes fixated upward, I lie still. This morning ritual of looking and listening has bestowed itself upon me, and although I did not choose this, I’m groggy but curious.

In this quiet morning hour, this newfound ritual wants to alert me of something.

For years, I thought I already knew what I needed to know. What could I possibly learn that would change anything? On some days it felt easier to keep my eyes closed and stay asleep.

Now, in this early morning hour, I look because I’m ready to see; and I listen because I’m ready to hear. The stillness of this early morning hour beckons me to know something; it reminds me that I do want to know something that I did not know yesterday.

As I stare at the once uneventful, unnoticed and monotonous basic white ceiling, it is remnant of a blank slate to be filled; my blank slate to fill.

In this early morning hour, before buses and cars interrupt the silence, I look and I listen and I wonder.

With hidden anticipation of something new, I slowly sit up. My feet hover above the floor in preparation to begin again.

What will this day bring?

What will I learn?

What will I give?

And today, who will I become?

With my feet firmly planted, the rough rug fibers cast a prickly sensation. I’m ready.


I am ready…to begin, again.

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About Me

Bridgitte Jackson-Buckley (born in Los Angeles, CA in 1971) is an American author, memoirist and interviewer.


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