I have never considered myself strictly either a morning person or a night owl.
A morning person brings to mind someone who routinely enjoys waking up at the crack of dawn, sitting up in bed and stretching their arms wide to greet the sun, accompanied by a crowing rooster in the background. They land lightly on their feet and begin the day with some light exercise, perhaps some yoga. Then, they bustle about in the kitchen and make themselves some tea and breakfast, maybe sit out on the porch overlooking their front lawn, and enjoy the morning that is to come.
A night owl, by comparison, is someone who revels in the night. They can sit up for hours when the world outside is dark, caught somewhere in that strange, ethereal time and space that doesn’t seem to truly exist. They can be someone different from who they normally are during the day, perhaps, someone with more time to think.
A “morning person” and a “night owl” are often viewed as polar opposites, but what I’ve realized is that perhaps they aren’t so different after all. Morning people are stereotypically seen as the energetic go-getters: the early risers, the most ambitious, the goal driven. Night owls are often portrayed as the angsty artistic type, the ones whose creative juices start flowing well past 1 a.m. and who have enough energy to make it through the wee hours.
Yet, morning people wake up early because it’s a time of peace. It’s a time of quiet contentment and reflection in the rare few moments of the day before everyone else is up, before the hustle and bustle of everyday, mundane life starts up again. It’s a time to be by yourself, silent and contemplative and hushed in awe by the beauty and stillness of the world.
Night owls stay up late because it’s a time of solitude in the quiet peace of the world in darkness. It’s a time when everyone else has already retired to their beds and you, a single person, remain. Alert. Silenced. Unrestrained under cover of night. Reverently amazed by the beauty and stillness of the world.
I am neither, strictly speaking. But I enjoy being flexible. I enjoy being able to consider myself either one or the other, or maybe even both simultaneously. The wonderful thing is that I can be both. They are not so different after all.