I was left with no other choice but to attack my first thought in the morning. The alarm went off and the first thing it said was to stay longer. I said it with him. I knew it was going to say it. So it didn’t work to lure me away from what I said I was going to do. I responded with the decision to get up. Removing the thought of what I had to do, and focused on just doing something. Doing anything meant I was up and moving. Once that is taken care of, it’s easy to keep moving. Easier than going back to sleep. You have to know yourself to catch yourself. Or else you’ll keep slipping between the cracks of your awareness. It will weaponize your ignorance against you.
The voice in the morning is always the same. Soft, familiar, persuasive. It knows exactly what to say because it is me. But I’ve started recognizing its tricks. It doesn’t shout; it whispers in comfort. That’s the real danger. It doesn’t argue against your goals—it just delays them. It tells you one more minute won’t hurt. But I’ve learned that giving in once is enough to fall back into patterns that steal entire days. So I’ve had to get sharp. Not aggressive, but precise. I attack the first thought before it builds momentum.
It’s wild how small victories like that define the entire day. Just sitting up, feet to the floor, and moving—those seconds carry weight. They remind me who’s in control. Not the thought that tries to stall me, but the part of me that responds with action. That’s the part I’m training. That’s the part I want to lead. It’s never about feeling motivated. It’s about building reflexes that pull me out of excuses and drop me straight into movement.
The longer I practice this, the more I realize how often I used to be unconscious to my own patterns. I’d make plans, then abandon them without noticing. Now I notice. Now I see the moment it begins—the fork in the road. If I’m aware enough to see it, I’m strong enough to choose the right path. The morning is mine if I take it. But I have to take it quickly, or it’ll slip right through the cracks.
