Mornings and I have had a complicated relationship.

For years, I’ve heard about the magic of morning routines — how the most successful people wake up before dawn, drink lemon water, journal for 30 minutes, run five miles, and meditate in perfect silence while birds chirp gently in the background. And while I know those stories are often curated and filtered (both literally and metaphorically), I’ve still found myself caught in the comparison trap. Why don’t my mornings feel like that?

Because… well, life.

I’m not here to sell you the idea of a “perfect” morning routine. I don’t have one. What I do have is a collection of practices I return to — not always consistently, not always gracefully, but with growing intention. And that’s what this week’s #MyPeacein50 reflection is all about.

The Messy Truth About My Mornings

Let me start with honesty: my mornings are not Instagram-worthy. I don’t rise at 5am or do cold plunges or drink chlorophyll water (whatever that is).

Here’s what they do include:

• Meditation: This is the non-negotiable. Even if it’s just five minutes of breathing, I start here. Sitting on the couch in my living room with a mask over my eyes and a stone in my hand, I try to meet the day with presence. On hard days, it’s the only moment of quiet I get.
• Protein Shake: This one’s purely functional — but it’s a routine I appreciate. My body does better when I have something nourishing early, and over time, it’s become an anchor. I put lots of good stuff in it (protein, peanut butter, chocolate powder, flaxseed, etc.) because I just need to have a really good meal to start my day.
• Movement… sometimes: I wish I could say I consistently work out in the morning. The truth is, some days I do — often a walk, short yoga session, or Peloton ride — and some days it happens later. Or not at all. I’m learning to let that be okay.
• The Phone Shift: This might be the most transformative change I’ve made. I used to wake up and immediately scroll — news, emails, Instagram. It set my nervous system on edge before I even got out of bed.

A few months ago, I moved my phone out of my bedroom and replaced it with an alarm clock/white noise machine. It’s changed my mornings. I use the Reacher Digital Alarm Clock & White Noise Sound Machine (affiliate link), because it’s simple and no fuss, but any one like it will do. 

Now, I wait at least 30 minutes before checking social media or the news or my emails. Just that one boundary has improved how I sleep, how I wake, and how I move into the day. It’s given me a buffer between rest and reaction — and that’s been priceless. Just try it for three days and I promise that you’ll feel better.

Last Week: Stillness in Motion

In last week’s blog, Stillness in Motion, I wrote about the impossibility — and necessity — of finding stillness in the midst of chaos. Not the kind of stillness that requires silence or solitude, but the internal kind: a breath, a pause, a moment of presence.

I’ve realized that mornings are one of the best places to begin practicing that kind of stillness. It’s not about quieting the world. It’s about creating tiny islands of calm within it. Waking up slowly. Moving through the morning with just a little more softness. Giving ourselves permission to be before we do. Mornings become an invitation to reclaim what stillness feels like — not as a performance, but as a practice.

Why Mindful Mornings Are So Hard

We don’t talk enough about how hard it is to create mindful mornings in a culture obsessed with productivity and urgency. We’re taught to leap out of bed and start performing — for our jobs, our families, our inboxes, our followers.

We’re taught that ease is indulgent. That slowness is laziness. That morning practices are a luxury, not a necessity. But what if your morning routine isn’t about achieving or optimizing or checking boxes? What if it’s simply about meeting yourself?

That question has changed the way I think about mornings. It’s not about stacking habits or achieving inner peace before 8am. It’s about cultivating the kind of presence that helps me carry peace into the rest of the day — even when it’s messy, stressful, or loud.

Practices I’m Experimenting With

Here are a few things I’m trying (some more consistently than others), not because they make me “better,” but because they help me feel more like myself:

1. A Morning Walk Around the Block:
   I haven’t nailed this yet — but I know it would help. Just 10 minutes outside, hearing birdsong, feeling the sun (or fog), breathing in morning air. It shifts something. I’m working on building this in.
2. Peloton’s Morning Yoga Classes:
   These short sessions are such a gift. They help me ease into movement gently — no pushing, no striving. Just breath, stretch, and a sense of coming home to my body. I never regret doing them, but it does take some intention to start.
3. Sitting in Silence with my breakfast shake:
   No phone. No tasks. Just sitting. Sipping. Listening to the house settle. This is rare, but when I do it, I feel more anchored than any productivity hack could make me.
4. Journaling (Sometimes):
   I’ve never been a consistent journaler, but I’m experimenting with simple prompts like:
• What do I need today?
• What’s one word I want to carry into the day?
• Where can I create a moment of ease?

Mornings as Nervous System Care

At the heart of this is a nervous system practice. Because how you begin your day impacts how you move through it. A jarring alarm, immediate doomscrolling, and rushing into tasks? That sets a tone of reactivity and tension. But starting your day with just a few moments of breath, movement, or presence? That can shift your entire nervous system into a more grounded state. It doesn’t have to be dramatic. It just has to be intentional.

This is especially important for those of us who are grieving, caregiving, or managing trauma. Morning gentleness isn’t a nicety — it’s a necessity. When we begin with calm, we don’t just survive the day — we move through it with more space for grace.

If You’re Struggling to Start

Here’s what I want you to know: You don’t have to do all the things.

You don’t need a two-hour routine or a wellness checklist. You don’t need to become a “morning person.” You just need one moment.

Start small:

• Breathe for 30 seconds before you get out of bed.
• Open the blinds and let the light in.
• Stretch your arms overhead and exhale.
• Say something kind to yourself. Even if it’s just, “We’ve got this.”

That’s enough. That counts.

A Song for the Morning

This week’s song, “Old Pine” by Ben Howard, has long been a favorite of mine. It begins with this gorgeous, slow instrumental — almost meditative — and then builds into a rhythm that feels like sunrise. It reminds me of how nature wakes up: gently, gradually, with a kind of grounded aliveness.

There’s a line in the song that always stays with me:

"We stood, steady as the stars in the woods."

That’s what I want my mornings to feel like — steady. Rooted. Spacious. And real.

Practice Invitation This Week

Try this Morning Pause:

1. Before you look at your phone, place a hand on your heart.
2. Take three slow breaths.
3. Ask yourself:
   What kind of energy do I want to bring into today?

No pressure. Just presence.

The Weekly Flow

Here’s what this week looks like in the #MyPeacein50 rhythm:

• Monday → This blog goes live
• Tuesday–Thursday → Morning prompts, routines, and tools on Instagram, LinkedIn, and Facebook
• Friday → I’ll post a video on how my mornings really went this week — the messy parts, too

You’re invited to:

• Try just one new thing this week
• Share your morning moment using #MyPeacein50
• Or download the free Calm Calendar for ongoing support

What I’m Loving This Week

• Sound: The first bird outside my window in the morning. Gentle and persistent.
• Practice: Delaying phone use for 30 minutes. It’s a game changer.
• Tool: Reacher Digital Alarm Clock & White Noise Machine — simple, effective, no blue light.
• Quote: “Begin as you mean to go on.” — Charles H. Spurgeon
• Song: “Old Pine” by Ben Howard — a sunrise in musical form.

Looking Ahead

Next week’s blog is called “Self-Compassion and LovingKindness.” It’s a deep dive into what it means to meet yourself with care — not just when things are calm, but when you’re stressed, triggered, or overwhelmed. We’ll talk about Dr. Kristin Neff’s work, LovingKindness meditation, and why compassion isn’t soft — it’s strong.

But for now… may your morning hold a moment just for you. A breath. A stretch. A whisper of stillness. You deserve that.