“Bea giggles. It is, very likely, the sound that the earth made the first time it saw the sun come up.” — Book Lovers, by Emily Henry
Dear little fluff ball,
Welcome to my first love letter.
Life has been incredibly busy recently, full of a lot of reading, introspection, and watching Sabrina the Teenage Witch, whilst readjusting to university life after a four month summer break.
My favourite part of life right now is opening the blinds as soon as my alarm goes off in the morning so the first thing I do each day is watch the sunrise. In fact, I have begun specifically scheduling my alarm according to the sunrise time. Here I would like to clarify, I am absolutely not a morning person. At all. In fact, I have a history of often waking up with a sense of anxiety and dread. What do I need to get done today? What should I prioritise? What do I first, right now!?? …oh but, I don’t really feel like getting up and doing anything at all. But I’m failing everything already - I can’t have another unproductive day! Figure it out Esha! Save us!!!!
I am aware this probably seems fairly dramatic and extreme, and yet these sentiments (unfortunately) very accurately reflect the inner workings of mind since before I can remember. Whilst this narrative has shifted invariably over the years, the anxiety has often remained firmly in place. Hence, every time that alarm goes off, I feel exhausted and so do not want to get out of bed. However, there is a tiny gap between the blinds of my bedroom windows which the sun uses to its advantage. In a singular, tiny glance, I see it: hues of pink and orange coating the entire sky. Is anything in the world a more compelling argument? So I wrench open the blinds, find my warmest night robe, and wander onto the balcony.
Now, every morning, I begin my day watching sun awaken from behind the mountains against a world of pastel hues, while bathing in the gentle breeze dancing across my skin and the hushed, sleepy tones of the world all around me. Every morning, it is a magical, grounding, transcendent experience.
I won’t lie to you - the anxiety has not magically evaporated. However, I will say this practice has gifted me with a felt sense of peace and freedom, as well as introspective and creative energy. There is something about being awake in the hush of the morning, where it feels as though the world hasn’t quite fluttered their eyes open as yet that renders my mind a thousand times clearer, and hence, able to think more expansively.
I noticed the impact of this little morning ritual most during a week-long period when I allowed myself to sleep in a little more and ignore the sunrise. I noticed a shift in the way I started my day. Sleeping in meant that I felt compelled to rush immediately into tending to my various commitments. I found myself (unhelpfully) coping with my morning anxiety through subtle forms of escapism / avoidance - watching a TV show or listening to a podcast as I got ready, fervently running through my schedule in my mind, procrastinating in beginning the day at all. The mornings I began with the sunrise, I felt more connected to myself - my thoughts, my emotions, my imagination and creativity, my capacity for reflection, and most importantly, my inner wisdom. I woke with a sense of possibility, with clarity, with a peaceful, yet energised solitude.
So to summarise, in the words of Phil Dunphy, “Watch a sunrise at least once a day.”
things I love right now and hope to remember a year from today
this poem.
This poem touches the most tender part of my heart. I am in love with how simply it encapsulates and verbalises an intimate and deep ache I carry with me constantly as I move through the world these days.
this quote.
From Anne Carson’s piece, Wonderwater:
“I have longed for people before, I have loved people before. Not like this. It was not this. Give me a world, you have taken the world I was.”
this movie.
I first heard Anne Carson’s writing whilst watching Dan Levy’s latest movie, Good Grief. Heartbreaking, yet a cure for my own heartache. Painful, yet warmer than the sun. Thought-provoking, yet tender and soothing.
Something I find so beautiful about Dan Levy’s work is how often it is about what isn’t said. The intimacy, the humour, the deep ache lies gently and intentionally nestled amongst the scene, and conveys emotional depth in a way that makes me feel a little more seen.
this book.
I recently finished reading Maybe You Should Talk to Someone by Lori Gottlieb.
Exploring the life of a therapist and her patients, as well as her own therapist, this book was brilliantly insightful for me - not only as a trainee therapist, but as a human. It flowed so well and was genuinely easy to read, with touches of humour, science, and warmth weaved throughout. Check it out if you want to become infinitely more perceptive in your own life, whilst cultivating deeper self-awareness.
these journal prompts.
If you feel a little overwhelmed in your life right now:
What do I need to get off my chest?
What does feeling “grounded” mean to me? What does it feel like?
What rituals in my life have helped me feel grounded?
Tip: Begin by writing the question at the top of your page. Set a timer for 15 minutes (or longer if you like) and just write whatever comes to mind without overthinking it. This will allow for your unconscious mind to slowly flow through your pen and onto the page.
the little things.
watching the hot air balloons float across the sky at sunrise from my balcony, as fairy lights twinkle around me.
seeing a dog’s tail wagging.
somehow maintaining a (rough) sleep routine. whilst this is still a work-in-progress, recently discovering my life-long insomniac tendencies in therapy, this has been fairly life-changing for me.
the unrestrained light filling my friends’ faces as my dog climbs on top of them in his (boundary-less) attempt to convey his unparalleled joy and love.
the new table I have finally got for my balcony. I will admit I have cancelled social plans without regret purely to sit on my table and read or write as the sun tugs itself into bed for the evening and the city lights come to life.
love, esha is a fortnightly love letter. Please feel free to share parts of this letter that connect with you, or send it to someone you love.
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wow! loved this sm🤍