Morning Writing as Ritual: A Practice for Clarity and Self-Connection

Each morning, before the world comes alive, I sit at my writing table with pen and paper to write. This early morning time is dedicated to writing for myself—not to produce, but to connect, to listen, and to settle into myself before the day begins.

I start my mornings quietly, in the hush of dawn. Before anyone else is awake (except for my cat, who refuses to sleep in…) I rise and gently move through the dim morning light from my bedroom to the kitchen. Letting my eyes adjust to the natural light, I prepare myself a glass of warm lemon water to hydrate, then make yummy coffee in the moka pot. While the coffee slowly bubbles on the stove, I do gentle stretching and then, coffee mug in hand, make my way to a table near the window.

Slow and deliberate. That is the tone and intention. 

This isn’t time for writing my book or drafting a blog post; this isn’t writing for an audience; this is writing for the sake of writing, for the sake of knowing myself more fully. This is writing to feel, to remember, to embrace, to fumble my way through thoughts. Whatever needs to come out in the morning goes onto the page. It’s how I feel into my day, how I feel into my life.

I love watching the light slowly track across the page as I write as if meeting my unfolding thoughts with kindness. Writing first thing in the morning before I interact with the world gives me both a container for thoughts and feelings as well as daily structure. It’s my starting point. The page is like a map for my day; the X that marks the spot where I am.  Here I am, right now, looking out the window and noticing the little things. This quiet time helps me tune into how I feel, what’s pressing on my mind, and what I want for the day.

It’s not necessarily poetry that flows onto the page. Mostly, it’s junk. But it’s my junk. Junk that later, sometimes, I can turn into treasure. Often, it’s these fragments—memories, dreams, the things I need to tell myself — that resurface elsewhere in my writing, in my being in this world. 

This is the value of a morning writing ritual. That’s the practice—sorting through the noise and making space for myself before the day begins.Even five minutes of morning writing is restorative. It’s a starting point, every morning, over and over and over again; it’s a way of continuing to be myself. It’s a way, a path, a practice. Simple and mundane, simple and powerful.

Paper and pen. That’s all it takes. That, and a desire to connect with myself.