La Madrugada – Daybreak

I have always (siempre) been a morning person and I find daybreak (la madrugada) to be a refreshing and inspiring event.  When I was younger (más joven), I used to like to stay awake until dawn, to see the new day come into light (la luz) from the darkness (la oscuridad) of the night before, to hold the expectation for a new beginning directly, to find communion in the tranquility (la tranquilidad) of the awakening morning. 

I know a number of people (la gente) who share this view and a number who can do without it, as the chance for sleep (el sueno) seems sweeter in first light for others, but for me, it is almost a call (una llamada) to arise, a chance to start anew, an opportunity fresh and unspoiled.  Some people find this habit (el habito) annoying and mock the morning person, a not so subtle response (la repuesta) to the ever present cheerfulness of the early riser, who may be in the office so early (muy temprano) and so wide awake.  Yet, I see the time in the early morning beginning with daybreak to be unspoiled, to be free of noise (el ruido) and traffic (el trafico), to be unhindered and alive.

As I sit here in my apartment (mi departamento) in Santiago, and stare out of the window (la ventana), catching the sun’s rays gently touching the peaks of the Andes Mountains, I understand that this is my last dawn (el final amanecer) that I will see this site for some time.  I understand that a new day (el día nuevo) is upon me, one that will begin here in Ñuñoa and hopefully end somewhere in the air (en el aire) over Central America, in a plane that will be heading into Dallas, Texas in the next morning’s light.  After that, the next steps (los pasos próximos) will be to make it through US Customs and back into line to try and get on another plane (un otro avion) and make it home to El Paso.

I have to admit (admitir) that some things went really well here during my time in Chile and that some things (algunas cosas) didn’t go so well either, but it is not the individual successes or failures (los fracasos) that really matter, it is how you respond at the end of it all.  There is a saying (un dicho) that is does not matter how many times you fall, but how many times you pick yourself up.  In other words, it is not the failures or the successes (los éxitos) that matter, but how you respond to them, it is not the number of days you have counted (has contado), but the one that you have anew in your midst. 

The morning light is a gentle reminder (un recuerdo suave) of the potential of the day, that there can be a fresh start (una empieza fresca), and that this idea, this guiding principle, can actually be lived out with (con) each breaking day.  That to me is the important point, that we have an opportunity to excel (destacar), a chance to be forgiven and redeemed, a time to hope (esperar) for a better way. Sometimes it is important to have thoughts (los pensamientos) and to give things a lot of reflection, but it is equally important to put (poner) those thoughts into action.

As I stare out into the morning light (la luz de la mañana), I recognize that this is the call of the new day, the time (el tiempo) for taking what I have learned and applying it to my life anew.  I only hope (solamente espero) that I am up for the task.