An early morning walk is a blessing for the whole day.”  Henry David Thoreau

From second grade through my senior year of high school I walked to school. Rain or shine, warm weather or cold I sauntered through the neighborhood early each morning throughout the school year. On especially cold days I often timed my jaunts to coincide with one of my friends riding to our mutual destination with her mother. More often than not, they would stop to offer me a lift for the greater part of the journey and I would quite happily join them in the warmth of the automobile. With the exception of those frigid times I was quite content to begin my day quietly consumed with my own thoughts because for the most part I am a soul who prefers to be alone in the first hours of the day. 

I used to tell people that I am not a morning person but that would be an inaccurate statement because on most days I arise from my slumbers before the first rays of sunlight begin to awaken the world around me. I enjoy the quiet solitude that allows my brain to slowly adjust to the hubbub of people setting off for work and buses arriving to carry children to school. I want only to listen, not to engage either my ears or my voice in conversation. It is as though I must carefully prepare my introverted personality for the assault of the sounds and commotions of a typical day. 

When I was working I usually had a rather long ride to work in the solitude of my car. I preferred getting up early enough to beat the traffic and to make my way to my classroom without encountering too many people. I saved my chattiness and energy for my students and used the extra time before my duties began to prepare my classroom for the lessons that I had planned. Somehow with luck I always ended up in a classroom far away from the office and the gathering places of the other teachers and the students. I enjoyed the peace and quiet of my outback locations. 

It was in those mornings that I found my kindred spirits but we all knew not to bother each other. There was an unspoken rule that demanded that we do nothing more than nod until the first bells called us out of the comfort of our dimly lit classrooms into the hallways to greet our students. Some of my colleagues had refrigerators, microwaves and coffee makers in their classrooms that allowed them to prepare breakfast that they slowly consumed with the lights turned down as low as possible. We were like little mice hiding in our nests until we had to scurry when the crowds formed outside our hideaways. 

Whether in the time that I was a student walking to school or when I had become a teacher with a routine that allowed my head to clear, once it was time to perform my duties I transformed into a chatterbox of extraversion. My early morning routines allowed me to have my cake of silence and eat it too.

Now that I am retired I enjoy a life without hectic but quiet dashes into the outside world each morning. Instead I sit in my recliner sipping on my tea while solving puzzles from The New York Times and wishing my Facebook friends greetings on the days of their births. I read articles and make sure that my blog is posted on multiple sites. By the time my husband comes in from his slumbers I don’t mind that he switches on all the lights that I have avoided for hours. I am ready for whatever challenges may come either scheduled or unexpected. 

I love walking in my neighborhood but for quite some time I have been limited in how far I have been able to go by two knees filled with arthritis and devoid of the cushioning that made walking so wonderful in my youth. Now that I am three months beyond my total knee replacement in one knee I look forward to longer and longer journeys on foot.

Times have changed since my youth. Nobody lives with their windows open anymore so I do not hear the sounds of life greeting me from each home that I pass. Few children play outside like I did so I rarely seen another person. When I do they often simply nod and pass as they listen to music or podcasts with their AirPods. The world is all mine to encounter as I see fit. I hear the birds and smile as the occasional dog barks as I go past. Sometimes I glance up into the sky when a plane flies over on its way to the airport or crane my neck when a firetruck or ambulance whizzes past me. Mostly there is a calm silence embracing me just like when I was young and strong and able to walk for hours without even resting. 

The morning person in my psyche loves the slowness of my retirement and days when I have nothing planned. Sometimes I simply revel in walking slowly with no real destination and no need to hurry my steps. Just being outside in our beautiful world is all that I really need to nurture the quiet moments that I have always seemed to cherish. What a blessing!