Relics

Like many old relics that gradually migrate to some seldom used corner of a room and begin to collect dust after their careers have expired, my alarm clock’s time has passed. Without an examination of necessity or a conscious upgrade to an alternative solution, its service was unceremoniously displaced by the slap-slap-slap of little feet smacking against hardwood floors.

My days steadily transitioned from extended stretches of time casually flowing from one activity to another, to a controlled timeline that rewards precision and structure. It’s ironic that a life so heavily dependent on exactness no longer requires the trusted instrument of time that served for so many years as a daily starting pistol.

As my memory reached back into a time of casual weekend mornings, I tried to regain a portion of my yesterdays by introducing the snooze button concept to my new alarm clock.

Very early one morning I heard a soft voice, “Daddy, Daddy, I’m awake” from approximately 2.5 inches in front of my nose.

I responded with a mostly audible, “Son, it’s still the middle of the night” trying to convey enough legitimacy that the statement could be plausible. To a 2 year old, dark equates to the middle of the night and without his ability to read a clock, I felt that my explanation was believable.

“But I need you” whimpered my little friend with enough truth that I was compelled to investigate the degree of “need” and fulfill my paternal duty.

I seem to recall my relationship with the snooze button being much less complicated.

The shift from automated to personalized wake up has provided a welcome side effect that even my Soothing Sounds of Zen alarm failed to do for my morning disposition. My new 41 inch alarm clock does more than shove me from one state of consciousness to another; instead ushering in the pace for my awaking.

My morning schedule now includes a daily appointment for Boy’s Club- a quiet time comprised of silent bonding on a comfortable couch or chair, while we enjoy a beverage and watch the sunrise over the distant tree line. The rules of Boy’s Club are simple and sacred: Keep the light, the distractions and the fussing to a minimum (a rule applicable to all members). This session lasts until all internal systems have a chance to activate and we are prepared to introduce additional stimulus into our day.

I’ve come to appreciate and look forward to the personal nature of this morning ritual. I just wish there was a setting on my new alarm clock prohibiting any notification before 5:30 am.