Occasionally, I would wake up about five minutes ahead the alarm clock going off. Staring at the indifferent digits of time, already conscious but not yet ready to give up the idea of sleep, I find myself pondering what to do: should I just get up and start my day, or should I linger in bed, squeezing any possible minute left of the now illusive rest?
Foolish, I know, what are five minutes? Thinking about it now, when I am fully alert, it seems petty, insignificant. Yet early in the morning, each minute carries the weight of a full night’s sleep. How does our perspective change under different circumstances.
Ultimately, what I find to be a determining factor in whether I get up ahead of the clock or snooze for a few more minutes, is not how well I slept that night or how tired I feel that morning; it is the motivation I can conjure to face the upcoming day’s events. Sometimes the imaginary aroma of a fresh cup of coffee would suffice, other times even the promise of unearthing a hidden treasure may not do the trick. On those days, so it seems, I have to dig even deeper.
Albert Einstein explained it this way: “Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That’s relativity.”
Learned from: the face of my unshaven alarm clock in the morning