Writing takes flight when all it needs is right. A stretch of the neck. Flex of the hands and fingers. Clearing of energy with rubbing the hands and face and shoulders.
My cup of chamomile tea, nice and hot, sits on a reachable point on a small table called “Dave.” I wish I had more tables like Dave. He’s so flexible. Paper and Pen are patient. But I transgress. Let me tell you how this all started and why we are all up in wee morning hours.

Writing gets up to play at 2:22 AM.

Allowing the rhythm to come and go, and with imagination, sometimes (usually) awakening before I do, Ideas are running like bathwater, bubbling, and a part of me is already waiting to jump in the tub, while another part is still in bed trying to reconnect sleep. Writing wants to play, and like a parent I certainly want “her” to be happy, and other parts of me want their things, too.
A nerve in my right shoulder, traveling to signals in my right hand moves me to shift and turn in bed. When Writing said, “Getup! Let’s go play!“ Shoulder, hand, nerve agreed, “OK.“
“But, I am the parent, and I say sleep.” I respond.
Writing persisted with an Idea from 2:22 AM to 4 AM.
Enough from you two! Let’s get up for a brief romp and then it’s back to bed,” I said!
Slipping slowly out of the sheets, caring for my still sleeping partner’s rest, I am standing now, fingering the table next to my bed for cuddly soft socks, my toes concerned of floor’s cold surprise. Once they are safe, again, we all go together to find Robe hanging up in bathroom. “Is it time to get up?” she asks. I nod.
There’s hand, shoulder, nerves, and Idea already planning with Writing, and they are rattling off with conversation at 100 miles per minute.
I wonder how I’ll be able to keep up with them, as they are going so fast. “Wait. I need to go to the kitchen and make us a cup of tea.“
Eyes complain, “You woke me up! Isn’t this our scheduled sleep time?“
“Yes,“ I agree, “but we both know that until writing has time to play we are not going to sleep.“
With the whole of me, we step softly on the creaky wood floor, off to the kitchen with Socks and Robe keeping us cozy.
The hot water pot is easy. Click it on. The chamomile box of tea waits with lucky us two bags of tea left. Whew! And the perfect cup, lightweight, yet with a full lip and easy handle for early in the morning. Once water is hot we make the tea, Writing and Idea already on to another five-course meal of topics and playful words.
We settle into the couch that we most like, and choose pillows to back us up.
Moving into place the lap writing table, notebook to write in, favorite pen, and a storybook to show Eyes in case she gets bored. I tell Writing and Idea that they can go run in the playground of pen and paper.
Hand, shoulder, and nerve want to be petted, stretched, rubbed, and we clear the energy, rub, rub, rub, and even scratch a little, ending with strokes through hair and scalp.
I wait. Sip tea. Move pen from right hand to left hand.
After a few words … they all … fall asleep.

Cat Wilson’s Morning Notebook
I write daily, probably 3-5 pages in the morning and throughout the day. This is one of the many essays that fill my notebooks.  Writing is like breathing and I love it. Do you love writing? It’s simply time when I am alive with something that seems to come from out of the air. I write with my right hand and left hand, and have learned that each has it’s own perspective. I give them equal opportunity to do their mischief on paper. As you can imagine… I have a favorite pen.
Are you a writer?
When is your best time for your imagination and writing time?
Do you have a favorite pen?
Please write and share, as curious minds want to know. (smile) (hugs)