There are those who start the day in a good or bad mood because of the dream that they abandon with the pillow. He may not remember it, but the dream will inevitably leave a bright or cloudy trace in his mind. Some people start the day by pressing the little button on the radio or television. So, let a script determined by an ideology or a trench work on your brain from the very first hour. Some people start the day on Twitter and it’s like inviting a bunch of obsessives to breakfast ready to exalt the most strident or extravagant news (the fact that quite a few Twitter users are intelligent does not prevent those with a fixed gear from predominating). Some people, like my friend Xavier, start the day doing meditation. He lies down on a mat, breathes in and out slowly, while he frees himself from dreams and anxieties. His head turns into an empty white room. He was an impatient guy, but now he reacts calmly in mourning as well as in joy.
There are those who, like my friend Marc, always get up at dawn and start the day reading the Gospels. The city continues to sleep while reflecting on a fragment of these texts from almost two thousand years of history. Spend some time thinking and then send the text to your WhatsApp contacts. Marc is a reserved, tenacious and creative guy. He seems to have no worldly passions: his heart boils within. There are those who, like my friend Lluís, begin by reading poetry. He chooses an author who was born or died on that day, from whom he chooses a short poem. He reads it aloud and the recording obtained results in some poetic pills that he sends to his friends before going to bed. Arm in arm with him, we take a walk through universal poetry every year. Despite his extensive poetic list, Lluís is a melancholic man, with the eternal smile of a dreamer.
It may be that, first thing in the morning, many do not have time for radio, Twitter, gospels or poems. The little ones play reveille at dawn. Showers, breakfasts, cleaning, order, hurry: everything is done in the company of the electric and high-pitched voices of children’s activism. There is no more constant and exhausting demand than the awakening of children who fly like birds across the floor, sing, play and fight. And yet, not even Mozart surpassed the music woven by the voices and laughter of children.
