My alarm goes off at five.
I wake up around 5:05.

By then, my mouth is already yawning and calling a meeting.

Of course, the brain runs meetings.
That’s understood.

The problem is that this meeting isn’t about planning the morning.
It’s about persuading the version of me from last night.

Yawning is a signal.
A physical one.
Not ready yet.

The brain understands the signal.
And opens the meeting anyway.
A meeting with a conclusion already in place.

The agenda is always the same.
Going back to sleep.

“Just a little more.”
“Meditation counts.”

At this point, the eyes quietly support the motion.

Sure.
Eyes closed.
Five more minutes of meditation.

The mouth doesn’t decide.
It just yawns.
The eyes nod politely,
and the brain treats this as a perfectly reasonable compromise.

I sit on the bed with my eyes closed.
This isn’t mindfulness.
It’s not clarity either.
It’s simply courtesy—
acknowledging a conversation my body has already started.

Five minutes pass.
Five minutes isn’t much.
But it’s enough to lose the morning.

So I count: five, four, three, two, one.

This isn’t discipline.
It’s how the meeting ends.

5:15 a.m.
Not a complete victory.
But maybe 85–90 percent.
For a morning, that’s acceptable.

I walk Minki.
Take out the trash.
Start the laundry.

6:39 am

The mouth is quieter.
The eyes are fully open now.
Yawning has stopped.
Breathing has returned.

That’s usually how I know
the system is back online.

And that’s enough for today.