My favorite time of day is the first couple of hours before the sun comes up. The quiet of morning makes me feel quite alone in the world, and I enjoy strolling the vacant streets with a cup of coffee. The walk wakes up my legs and the coffee jolts my mind, and, ever so slowly, people trickle out of their homes and into the streets. The poetic and incredibly beautiful thing about people in the morning is how determined they seem to begin the day just right.
If you watch closely, everyone seems to understand their place in the world around 8am – business associates hop determinedly onto bosses, students crack open their books, and shopkeepers swiftly sweep the floors. As the day progresses, people inevitably feel tired or angry or sad, but in the morning, it just seems like endless hope.
I woke at 7am the first time I slept at Jon’s apartment. It was a Saturday morning, and I figured he wouldn’t stir for at least another 3 hours. When I rolled over, however, I found him watching CNN and sending emails on his laptop. He kissed my forehead and hopped out of bed: “You’re up — Let’s get coffee.” I wiped the sleep from my eyes and thanked my lucky stars for finding me an early riser. Two mugs today, please.
We crossed the street from our downtown apartment and entered the coffee house on the corner. I just about keeled over when he grabbed The WSJ like a reflex. The WSJ is my favorite paper.
We ordered two black coffees, snuggled into a booth, and divided the paper. We spent the next few hours reading out loud, swapping stories, asking for opinions, and laughing over the same events. We occasionally turned away from the paper to indulge in some quality people watching.
This is a long story, Reader, but I’m trying to convey the magnitude of our first, seemingly ordinary, Saturday morning together. Three years later, the Saturday morning routine has become a relationship habit — we wake, brush our teeth, and then we go searching for caffeine and news.
We were in Chicago this past weekend, and even though we were on vacation, we woke Saturday morning and went searching for the local coffee shop, hand-in-hand. The power of our relationship ritual was too great to be broken by something as simple as a vacation. The consistency of our ritual, of the shared morning, coffee, and paper, is something that we look forward to and depend on. We repeat this Saturday morning tradition, time and time again, because we both find it so fulfilling and happy — down to the smallest detail. All of our Saturday mornings play out exactly the same way, in a sort of domestic haze, simply because we wouldn’t want them any other way. We found a moment that we choose, time and time again, to recreate exactly.
Do you have any relationship rituals? Families, couples or friends? Is there something that you look forward to doing, time and time again, with the people dear to you?