My Waking-Up Nightmare
I was drowning. Every morning felt like being dragged underwater by that demon snooze button. Alarm screeching, blankets choking me – pure chaos. Brain felt like cold oatmeal. Couldn’t decide between toast or cereal, let alone tackle bigger life stuff. Knew I needed change, but where? Sunlight or shadows? Both felt exhausting.
The “Rip Off the Band-Aid” Disaster
Tried going full “radiant” immediately. Brutal mistake. Moved my alarm clock across the room. Woke up at 5:30 AM sharp… fell straight outta bed. Cracked my knee on the nightstand. Swore loud enough to scare the neighbor’s cat. Then I stood there shivering in the dark like a confused pigeon. Made fancy avocado toast for breakfast. Picked an outfit that felt like a costume. By lunchtime? Utterly drained. Felt like wearing armor made of concrete. Wasn’t “basking” – I was roasting alive.
Shadow Lurking Ain’t Relaxing
Next week, tried hiding completely. Said “no” to everything. Stayed buried under blankets till noon. Ordered greasy takeout three times in one day. Scrolled TikTok til my thumbs hurt. Supposed to be restful, right? Nope. Room smelled like stale pizza crusts. Felt guilty calling friends back. That dark room felt less like sanctuary, more like a cave trapping me. Shadows weren’t gentle – they were heavy.
The Tiny Light Experiment That Actually Worked
Enough. Time for plan C. Grabbed my dusty journal. Scribbled down three stupid-simple choices:
- Light Hunt: Open one window shade immediately. Just one. Sunbeam directly onto my coffee mug.
- Shadow Pocket: Guilt-free lazy hour after lunch. No planning, just staring at clouds or doodling.
- Daily Micro-Step: One life admin task BEFORE email. Pay one bill? Call Mom? Done = win.
Monday: Opened the kitchen shade. Sun hit the spoon in my oatmeal. Sparkly. Actually smiled.
Wednesday: That 1pm lazy hour? Doodled a terrible cartoon frog. Felt gloriously pointless.
Friday: Paid the water bill BEFORE work chaos. Felt like a ninja.
Living Between Sunrise & Sunset
Don’t need extremes. Turns out my “best life” isn’t a spotlight or a blackout curtain. It’s the messy middle. Sunlight sneaking past the blinds. Dust floating in those beams. Choosing shadows intentionally sometimes, stepping into warmth others. Mostly? Stopping the daily tug-of-war. Still mess up sometimes. Like Wednesday when my “light hunt” meant stepping on a LEGO barefoot. Ow. But today? That sunshine on my spoon? Still pretty cool.