My first alarm clock was a rite of passage for me. I was around ten years old, and digital clocks were fairly modern. Mine was all white with black panels, bearing white numbers on them that tumbled forward every minute in a magical fashion, revealing the new minute. Just like the clock in Groundhog Day, the movie. I remember distinctly that first summer, I watched the minutes pass by, and with any luck, I was around for when the hour changed. I was mesmerized by the technology, and I am not at all embarrassed by how easily I was amused.
But more than watching the numbers change, this alarm clock indicated a certain level of independence and autonomy. I would no longer need to be awakened by my mother’s voice bellowing down the stairs, waking me from my slumber. No, this was different. The tone on this space-aged looking marvel was similar to a breach in the pressure seal of a submarine. That blaring warning would blast mere inches from my precious ears, startling me awake with a significant adrenal dump that would keep me going until I climbed the steps on to the bus.
I had a love-hate relationship with that alarm clock, and I am not really sure what happened to it. I’ve had many alarm clocks since that time, too numerous to mention, but you never forget your first.
Eventually, tools like calculators, cameras, alarm clocks, and encyclopedias were all packaged in a tiny device we can no longer live without called the smartphone. With the phone, we can not only choose our clock face but also our alarm ringtone. I was much older when this became the norm, but no less a child at heart. I spent an inordinate amount of time listening to and sampling different options of tones to which I would be awakened.
I was never nostalgic about that blaring submarine warning of my adolescence. In fact, I went the opposite direction to one which I referred to as the “fairy princess” tone of an alarm. I went with fairy princess for several years until my new phone offered something even more soothing and relaxing. This was the strings of a harp gently plucked with the accompaniment of a handbell choir. Most mornings, this would chime so softly with a gradually increasing volume that it was like I was being gently awakened from my dreams by angels from heaven.
Years and years, I woke to these gentle tones. For work each morning, for travel, for every day that I had something to do. I didn’t resent the alarm. I mean, how could I? It was so soft and nice. I considered this alarm to be a partner with me, a friend who only came around in the morning.
Now that I have been retired for several years, I have no need for an alarm. I just wake up naturally, the way God intended it. It may horrify you to know that my usual time for waking up is somewhere between 5:30 and 6:30 am. Right in that range. I was surprised by this. I thought for sure that I would sleep in till 7 or 8, but no, I start my morning pretty early.
I enjoy the quiet of the house. I enjoy the solitude it offers. I enjoy my morning routine. I start by drinking a 16 oz glass of water, performing my Wim Hof breathing protocol, and immediately move to reading scriptures. Once I have taken care of those things, I get to enjoy the most delicious cup of dark roast coffee while practicing my Spanish, which is usually 30 minutes each morning (over 800 days in a row with no breaks).
After Spanish, I shift to the kitchen to prepare my breakfast and plan my day. This is my favorite meal of the day, and I will have my second cup of coffee. Once the dishes are done, I will go lift weights if it is Monday, Wednesday, or Friday. Then I will go on my walk, which is usually 3 to 5 miles. Once a week, I may go 8, 10, or 15 miles (like today). From mid-October to Early June, I will cold plunge in either Lake Michigan or Lake Leelanau, depending on conditions and waves.
By noon, I have taken care of all of the health-related stuff and can pretty much do what I want to do with the rest of the day, which may include golf, chores, stand-up paddle, or running errands.
At the current time, I am not working for wages. I consider my health and health improvement to be my full-time job. I don’t suspect that will always be the case, but while I still feel deficient, it will remain my primary task. Perhaps, a few years from now, it won’t be necessary, but I plan on maintaining the progress that I have been making. In other words, some balance. Until then, I will keep plugging away.
It’s been 50 years since I was mystified by the digital demon that was my alarm clock. Dozens have replaced that first one, and I honestly don’t miss any of them.