This is usually the very first thing I see when I wake up in the morning.
Before even walking to the bathroom to take a leak, I reach over to the bedside table and pick up the glass of water that Andy has delivered in the night, like magic. I gulp most of it down to start the day, and as my eyes adjust to whatever light might be available at the early hour, I begin to discern the bottom of the glass. Taking on kaleidoscopic properties, it offers a jumpstart to my imagination for that day. Sometimes it unfurls grandly, spooling off into all sorts of possible directions – and it’s the possibility that is so intoxicating. Some days it stays put, barely lit by the darkness of a winter morning, and hardly able to make itself into anything more than a simple glass of water.
Even on the unimaginative days, it offers stability and sustenance, a stalwart embrace of reality first thing in the morning – a necessary reminder to remain grounded, to nourish the basic needs of the body, to heed the basic needs of the mind.
