It is late, it is dark and it is quiet. This is my time. I nestle and become enclosed in my sanctuary. My mind shakes off the shackles of the daily grind, takes a moment to release the weight and is free to indulge in any and every impulse.
This cannot occur by waking up extra early in the morning, as my mind seems to work like a vintage engine. On start up, it is sluggish. It takes the whole day before it starts running smoothly. By bedtime it is purring like a kitten. It could also be due to the fact that I am greeted with responsibilities, deadlines and obligations as soon as I emerge from my slumber and by night I have fulfilled most of them, leaving me rubbing my hands together conniving creative pleasures that will massage the right side of my brain and dismiss the left.
In these late hours businesses are shut, people have gone home and everything feels rested. Any influencing energies seem distant, even inexistent. I feel as if I am on my own, acting like a naughty child who has defied their parents doing what they wish with no one to intervene.
These hours permit my freedom, grant me focus and allow inspiration to coax my third eye to open its lid, like the night owl that I am.
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