For most of my life, I considered myself a night owl. I thrived in the quiet stillness of late hours—when the world slowed down, and distractions felt fewer. Whether I was catching up on work, mindlessly scrolling, or binge-watching something I didn’t even care about, I told myself I was just wired for the night. Mornings, by contrast, were always a struggle. I’d hit snooze more times than I’d like to admit, rush through getting ready, and start the day already behind. I functioned, sure—but I never truly felt like I was in control of my time.
That all changed when I made one small but powerful decision: to start waking up early, intentionally.
It started with curiosity more than discipline. I listened to a podcast about how successful people often guarded their mornings, using them not for work, but for clarity, reflection, and growth. I figured, why not give it a try? I didn’t expect much—maybe just a little extra time to get ahead of emails. But what I got was something deeper.
The first few mornings were rough. My body protested, my mind was foggy, and I questioned what I was doing. But by the end of the first week, I noticed something unexpected: peace. There was a certain magic in the early hours, a kind of quiet energy that made space for thoughts I didn’t know I had.
I began to craft a new kind of morning—one centered not on productivity, but presence. I started with small rituals: stretching, making coffee slowly, reading a few pages of something inspiring, or journaling whatever was on my mind. Eventually, I added short walks at sunrise, where I’d simply listen to birds and feel the world waking up around me.
One of the biggest gifts of this change has been mental clarity. I no longer jump out of bed and dive straight into the chaos of the day. Instead, I ease in. I center myself. I’ve become more focused, more calm, and more intentional. My mood has improved. My anxiety, especially in the mornings, has lessened dramatically. I approach my work with more energy, my relationships with more patience, and my thoughts with more kindness.
Waking up early also gave me the gift of time for things I claimed I “never had time for.” I started writing again. I picked up books that had been gathering dust. I started preparing better breakfasts and even tried meditation—something I had long dismissed as “not for me.” These things weren’t just about filling time; they were about filling me.
What’s beautiful is that this change didn’t require some radical reinvention. I didn’t need a new job or a new location. I just needed a new rhythm—one that prioritized my well-being instead of my to-do list. It reminded me that sometimes the most transformative changes are the simplest. And often, the hardest part is just starting.
Now, I see mornings not as something to get through, but something to savor. They’ve become a sacred time that sets the tone for the rest of my day. That’s the positive change I’ve made: choosing to meet the morning, and therefore my life, with intention.
And the best part? Anyone can do it. One small choice, repeated daily, has the power to reshape everything.
What If I...? 