What is the process of waking up in the morning?
Of adding on an alarm bell or a funky sound or a radio station.
Or, of allowing someone else to do the adding – as in a leaf blower, a jack hammer or a crow fight.
A stretching perhaps. Deep breathing.
Layering on a TV news program to add the larger world to your plate.
Reading browser tabs, newspapers and posts to confirm beliefs you’ve held and allow experts into your mind.
Adding a drug called coffee to block adenosine so you can be unlike your biological self and seem more awake.
Adding conversations with work people.
Layers and layers of additives.
One after the other.
What’s the other kind of waking up?
Taking away importance.
Trying to hear a silence but not really even trying for that.
Nothing to do.
Nobody to confirm anything with.
A long beach of the same bougainvillea and an ocean beside it.
High-flying birds directed toward whatever they pursue.
Insects beginning a new dance of pushing forth . . but mostly by taking away.
Bees taking away pollen.
Hummingbirds taking away nectar.
Reducing to expand.
Chores for the dance of chores.
No wanting; just a motion.