Pilates Thoughtful Tuesday: Early Mornings, Awareness and the Change of Season

Golden sunrise over Solway coast, farmhouse fields waking in quiet stillness.

I have always loved early mornings. Not because I am chasing productivity, but because I value the quiet. I wake up before most people, make my coffee, and sit while the light slowly shifts. Emails can wait. Messages can wait. The world can organise itself for a few more minutes. Watching the sun rise has become part of how I organise myself. It happens steadily. It does not rush. It does not react.

This morning I can still feel yesterday’s step class in my body. My calves are tight. My glutes feel worked. There is a weight in my legs that reminds me I asked something of them. I notice it straight away when I stand. That is the gift of quiet mornings. I can sense what is there instead of pushing past it. The body always keeps the record. If I landed slightly heavy or pushed a little harder, it shows up today.

And now, alongside that awareness of muscle and movement, I am noticing the change outside. The snowdrops are out. The early buds are starting to appear. There is a subtle shift in the air. It is not dramatic, but it is definite. The seasons are turning. After months of grey and cold, small signs of growth are appearing again.

I find there is something grounding in that. My body is recovering from effort. The garden is waking from winter. Both are part of a cycle. Nothing stays at peak intensity forever. Nothing stays dormant forever either. We move between phases. Work and recovery. Winter and spring. Effort and renewal.

In Pilates we talk about balance. Not only muscular balance, but nervous system balance. Yesterday was dynamic and demanding. Today might be more about mobility and control. Watching the snowdrops push through reminds me that progress is often quiet. It does not need noise. It needs consistency.

Early morning gives me the space to notice all of this. The soreness. The breath. The light changing. The plants returning. If I can hear my breathing, it is too loud. So I soften it. I lengthen my spine. I let the body reset before the day gathers pace.

The season is shifting. My legs are recovering. The sun rises again. Awareness first. Everything else builds from there.