“25,654!”

This is the number of mornings I have woken up since the beginning of my life, give and take a few leap years every now and then.

Some of my mornings were still lacking the basic element of consciousness, when I still was a baby, others were marked by some severe hang-over when I was young and irresponsible, others by huge worries, when I had banged my car the night before, forgotten a deadline or made some terrible decision.

A few more morning were marked by sharp physical pain, following an accident, an operation or some injury, and in some cases just general discomfort as was fighting the flu or was just under the weather or waking up fresh from some heartache or other deep disappointment.

Too many mornings begin stumbling out of an airplane, sleep-deprived, groggy, jet-lagged and unprepared to go to work. For a host of reasons, none of my mornings were created equal and, over the years, many of them have given me the chills for a bunch of valid reasons.

Of course, they were also these mornings that came too early without enough sleep to restore my batteries and make me see clearly into a surrounding waking world.

Finally, they were all these other fantastic mornings that made me want to go out and conquer the world and continue the task I had reluctantly given up the night before.

Today, with less activity, far fewer decision made the day before and a lot more wisdom, my mornings are generally calm, easy and are filled with ideas, plans and projects I'm looking forward to.

I only wish I'll be fortunate enough to enjoy many more of these hopeful daily beginnings!