I woke up in a funk last week. I knew it from the moment my eyes opened and the first thing I saw was my husband had all of the covers on his side of the bed and he was cocooned around them instead of under them and I was freezing. I knew it because the first thing I thought that day was “asshole.” I realized it further when my coffee spilled everywhere, and I dropped the wet grinds all over the countertop.

I knew it from the very moment I turned on my phone and it proceeded to die, and when my mother called me to tell me her computer had crashed. Followed by a phone call from a family member with a horrific story, and a text from a friend about her hardships too. Throw in the sick child and unexpected bill, and my day was off to a fabulous start.

The day had gone from slightly annoying to frustrating to downright irritating, and my mood was 100% on track with that.

I remember being in the midst of this day and thinking, “I’m watching my own...

The conversation is always the same.

Me:  "I wake up at 5 am. Every day of the week."

Them:  "On PURPOSE?"

Me:  "Yep.  I'm thinking of making it 4am."

Cue the deer in headlights stare-down.

A few years ago I realized something about myself:  I'm a morning person. Not only in that I can wake up in the morning without issue and have a deep conversation 3 minutes later, but in that I am AMAZING in the morning. My mind is clear, my thoughts are inspired, my energy is the highest of the day, and I feel so much alignment with my source in those hours before my family wakes up. I have come to crave those early hours for the inspiration they provide me, and I am at the point where if I don’t receive this time each day, I am completely derailed.

I am 100% addicted to the 5am hour.

After dozens of conversations asking me "What's your bedtime?" "What do you DO at 5am?" "How do you wake up while it's still dark?" and a thousand other questions, I did a little...