I noticed one feature, namely: if you read a book or some other material (an article, a task, etc.) early in the morning, it turns out that you somehow understand everything faster, remember more from what you read and read as if “thoughtfully and attentively ". Thus, for myself, I concluded that the best time for reading is in the time interval from 5:00 to 7:30 in the morning. And in principle, 30-40 minutes of reading is enough in the morning. I have already tried to read books in the morning. I read 5 books, each in about 6-7 days (I read 30-45 minutes a day in the morning). Moreover, these books, which I read in the morning, I remember the most. Plus, when I read books during the day, at lunchtime at work, after work, or at rare moments at work (when I had 15-20 minutes of free time), I kind of forced myself to do it. I read for the sake of reading, as if I set the goal of reading a book, but whether or not I understood what was being said was already secondary. Yes, maybe not with everything right, but something like that. And it felt like when I read in the afternoon or in the evening, it took incomparably more time (although the time in fact was the same when reading in the morning, as when reading in the afternoon or evening). In the morning - no matter how tense you are - you read for your pleasure. You know that you have nowhere to rush, no one distracts you with calls or VK messages, the main things have not yet begun ... you seem to subconsciously devote these 30 minutes only to the book, immerse yourself completely and all attention is focused only on what is written in this book. In general, these are the feelings I have. Another plus is that in the morning you read at about the same time (+/-) 15-20 minutes. and you already get used to it and do not force yourself to read, it becomes the norm. In 2013, I somehow woke up at 5:00 for about a month and read in the morning - I did not notice how I read 1 book, then another. In a month it turned out to read 4-5 books in this way, spending 30-40 minutes a day on it. Then I stopped waking up early (at 5 am), but I understood that it was necessary to read, because. Books affect me in the most positive way. But somehow there was never time. It was 20-30 minutes of time during the day, but I either forgot to read, or I didn’t have a book at hand, or I spent this time on TV, the Internet and other useless things. In the end, I came to this conclusion - that the best time to read is early in the morning. And, yes, I almost forgot, one more important point, a big plus: ... when I read books on self-education, scientific and applied literature earlier in the morning, I noticed a very interesting detail: when I read about something in a book in the morning, then in the afternoon, when there was a situation at work where you can apply the knowledge that I read in the morning - I did it. Every day I learned something new and applied it spontaneously throughout the day. Those. even if I read 15 pages and something useful was written there, then very often there was an opportunity - when this useful knowledge could be applied. But in the case when I hurriedly read 100 pages during the day, then somehow the information that was there “blurred” and was quickly forgotten, there was a lot of it ... and somehow, from experience, I rarely applied it in practice.
Vasily Belov
Dates in the morning
Grandmother got up at six o'clock, when cars began to make noise in the street. Now her sleep is not sound, she sleeps and thinks all night. Here the first, probably still empty, trolley bus passed outside the window. Every time something clicks in it, it seems to her that the car has broken down since morning. It's bad they look after cars! There are a lot of cars, but they don’t save ...
Today is Saturday. Anxiety for the coming day began in the evening. Now this anxiety immediately seizes the old heart. Saturdays and holidays grandmother began to be afraid. Before, when she lived in the village, she was happy, now she began to be afraid. Is there anything else going on today? Yesterday my son-in-law came home late, and my daughter did not talk to him.
They fell apart again.
Grandmother quietly, with her feet, gropes for her shoes. He puts his feet in slippers and, holding back a cough so as not to wake his granddaughter, whispers: “Sleep, mother, sleep! Christ is with you. You don't have to go to kindergarten today."
The granddaughter from that, from the first son-in-law - sleeps with the grandmother. As they put away from the boobs, so everything adds up. It happened that she would go into a roar, and her daughter would immediately lose her temper. Throw the baby on the bed like someone else's. And all because neurons. Thin neurons today, many have very bad ones.
So she thinks, tucking in a blanket from a child scattered in bed.
The road to the toilet is the most important for her now. There are only four steps here. Why, you also need to open the doors - two - and go through the parquet. And the parquet creaks, and the rugs that they brought from the village do not help either. I wove for them on purpose. My daughter ordered in a letter when the fashion for a lot of rustic things opened up. And then to say - fashion is not fashion, and you can’t buy carpets.
She cautiously opens the door to the hallway. Quietly steps on the rugs. But the parquet still creaks, as if dry birch bark was laid under it. Thank God, they didn't hear in their room. Now to open, blessed, the door. The door creaks too, and the switch clicks very fast. She decides not to turn on the light, the toilet still has a window from the kitchen, it is possible even at dusk. Even better. The new son-in-law covered the whole toilet with pictures, and in the pictures there are only naked girls. She is always ashamed to look at these - almost what her mother gave birth to. Such hang shcheperi. But what will you do? Case theirs. Grandmother sighs and again thinks what to do. It would be necessary to really flush the water, but you will raise such a noise that it’s just a disaster. If you don't, it's also a sin. The daughter scolds for the noise, the son-in-law is angry that the smell remains, you don’t know who to listen to, who to please ...
She again decides half and half: she does not drain all the water, but only part of it, carefully so that it does not gurgle. With washing, okay, you can wait. She also quietly returns to her six-meter room, where her granddaughter sleeps.
A sharp, but some kind of short, as if bashful call is heard from the front doors. Grandma, holding her breath, tiptoes to her door. “God, you don’t know what to do. If you don’t open it, they’ll call again, they’ll wake everyone up. And you can't open it either. If only the son-in-law woke up and went out. Maybe to him…”
She waits tensely: maybe they will leave. Creeps up to the door and listens. No, they didn't. It is heard clearly: there is someone behind the doors. It's better to open.
She carefully, without noise, turns the handle of the lock and quietly opens the door.
A bald old man in boots, in a gray cotton jacket, holding a cap in his hands, crumples at the door.
Good health! - he says loudly, and the grandmother waves her hands at him: “Hush, hush! ..”
The old man rearranges his backpack from place to place and also switches to a whisper:
I would, this ... I, then, Kostya ... No Konstenkin, then?
No, no
Where is he? Not on a business trip?
I don't know, I don't know, baby. He doesn't live here now.
Moved?
Moved, moved. Whose will you be?
Yes, I mean it ... Tell Konstenkin something that Smolin was. Olesha, then ... Well, excuse me, please.
With God blessing.
Grandmother carefully closes the door. Good thing no one woke up. Let them sleep, with Christ, they also got tired for a week, she thinks with respect about her son-in-law, daughter and son-in-law's sister, who came from another city, to act. That's six o'clock on the alarm clock. After reading the prayer, she sits at the feet of her granddaughter. It is very bad and unpleasant to sit like this, doing nothing. And there is a lot to do, and they will wake up at nine, not earlier. You could knit on knitting needles, but the wool just ran out. I ought to write a letter to my son, but they have paper and envelopes in their room. I would like to go for bread and milk, but the store opens only at eight o'clock. There is nothing to do yet. Thoughts themselves surround from all sides. And all the thoughts are only about them, about the children. Sons are far away, but my heart aches for them. One, an officer serving in Germany, is the youngest. Another lives in Siberia, left as a teenager. One daughter is in Moscow, the other - the eldest - lives in the village. That man does not drink, he is an artisan. About them and think in half, they live well. They themselves have grandchildren. But the local daughter, albeit in front of our eyes, is a pity more than anyone else. They live like a train station. She herself became like a sliver, she also swears with this man almost every other day. She divorced her first due to drinking. The second, although he does not drink, is somehow ordinary, and not independent. He is worse than any woman. They argue about trifles, but why argue? There is money, well-fed, shod. Thank God, the time has improved, the stores are full of everything. It used to be that before the chintz was brought to the shop - they bought it by lot. And now they don’t know what to wear, they take gifts for every holiday. And the holidays are on their way. And between themselves? Often like dogs. “Is that what I taught her?” - to herself, the grandmother says bitterly.
And she remembers a long time ago. Old, but so clear, local, as if it had not gone away. Men and wives never slept apart before. If only they go to war or to work. And now something? Women are too lazy to give birth to children, men have forgotten how to feed their families.
Is it a man if he earns less than his wife?
And suddenly she becomes ashamed that she is sneaking people. She scolds herself in a hasty whisper and remembers yesterday's letter from the village.
It's a pity. It is a pity for all - suffering now and those who have suffered. There, they write in the letter, an ordinary cousin, younger than her, but dead. He was going to live until he was ninety. Do not forget to remember in church. Oh, how much man has endured! And he was wounded and robbed. The skin was torn off in captivity, spitting into the eyes.
She also remembers her own husband, who disappeared in last war. Behind him, the mother-in-law, sister-in-law and brother-in-law come to mind. What can I say, she was not painfully affectionate, the deceased. Yes fair. He used to sit by the samovar, the first cup for her husband, the second for her son. And the third is not for herself and not for her underage sister-in-law, but for her, the daughter-in-law. Father-in-law, too - not at once, but thawed, but then he did not let anyone offend.
Grandmother got up at six o'clock, when cars began to make noise in the street. Now her sleep is not sound, she sleeps and thinks all night. Here the first, probably still empty, trolley bus passed outside the window. Every time something clicks in it, it seems to her that the car has broken down since morning. It's bad they look after cars! There are a lot of cars, but they don’t save ...
Today is Saturday. Anxiety for the coming day began in the evening. Now this anxiety immediately seizes the old heart. Saturdays and holidays grandmother began to be afraid. Before, when she lived in the village, she was happy, now she began to be afraid. Is there anything else going on today? Yesterday my son-in-law came home late, and my daughter did not talk to him.
They fell apart again.
Grandmother quietly, with her feet, gropes for her shoes. He puts his feet in slippers and, holding back a cough so as not to wake his granddaughter, whispers: "Sleep, mother, sleep! Christ is with you. There is no need to go to kindergarten today."
The granddaughter from that, from the first son-in-law - sleeps with the grandmother. As they put away from the boobs, so everything adds up. It happened that she would go into a roar, and her daughter would immediately lose her temper. Throw the baby on the bed like someone else's. And all because the nerves. Thin neurons today, many have very bad ones.
So she thinks, tucking in a blanket from a child scattered in bed.
The road to the toilet is the most important for her now. There are only four steps here. Why, you also need to open the doors - two - and go through the parquet. And the parquet creaks, and the rugs that they brought from the village do not help either. I wove for them on purpose. My daughter ordered in a letter when the fashion for a lot of rustic things opened up. And then to say - fashion is not fashion, and you can’t buy carpets.
She cautiously opens the door to the hallway. Quietly steps on the rugs. But the parquet still creaks, as if dry birch bark was laid under it. Thank God, they didn't hear in their room. Now to open, blessed, the door. The door also creaks, and the switch clicks very fast. She decides not to turn on the light, the toilet still has a window from the kitchen, it is possible even at dusk. Even better. The new son-in-law covered the whole toilet with pictures, and in the pictures there are only naked girls. She is always ashamed to look at these - almost what her mother gave birth to. Such hanging chips. But what will you do? It's their business. Grandmother sighs and again thinks what to do. It would be necessary to really flush the water, but you will raise such a noise that it’s just a disaster. If you don't, it's also a sin. The daughter scolds for the noise, the son-in-law is angry that the smell remains, you don’t know who to listen to, who to please ...
She again decides half and half: she does not drain all the water, but only part of it, carefully so that it does not gurgle. With washing, okay, you can wait. She also quietly returns to her six-meter room, where her granddaughter sleeps.
A sharp, but some kind of short, as if bashful call is heard from the front doors. Grandma, holding her breath, tiptoes to her door. “Lord, you don’t know what to do. If you don’t open it, they’ll call again, they’ll wake everyone up. And you can’t open it either. If only the son-in-law woke up and went out. Maybe to him ...”
She waits tensely: maybe they will leave. Creeps up to the door and listens. No, they didn't. It is heard clearly: there is someone behind the doors. It's better to open.
She carefully, without noise, turns the handle of the lock and quietly opens the door.
A bald old man in boots, in a gray cotton jacket, holding a cap in his hands, crumples at the door.
Good health! - he says loudly, and the grandmother waves her hands at him: "Hush, hush! .."
The old man rearranges his backpack from place to place and also switches to a whisper:
I would, this ... I, then, Kostya ... No Konstenkin, then?
No, no
Where is he? Not on a business trip?
I don't know, I don't know, baby. He doesn't live here now.
Moved?
Moved, moved. Whose will you be?
Yes, I mean it ... Tell Konstenkin something that Smolin was. Olesha, then ... Well, excuse me, please.
With God blessing.
Grandmother carefully closes the door. Good thing no one woke up. Let them sleep, with Christ, they also got tired for a week, she thinks with respect about her son-in-law, daughter and son-in-law's sister, who came from another city, to act. That's six o'clock on the alarm clock. After reading the prayer, she sits at the feet of her granddaughter. It is very bad and unpleasant to sit like this, doing nothing. And there is a lot to do, and they will wake up at nine, not earlier. You could knit on knitting needles, but the wool just ran out. I ought to write a letter to my son, but they have paper and envelopes in their room. I would like to go for bread and milk, but the store opens only at eight o'clock. There is nothing to do yet. Thoughts themselves surround from all sides. And all the thoughts are only about them, about the children. Sons are far away, but my heart aches for them. One, an officer serving in Germany, is the youngest. Another lives in Siberia, left as a teenager. One daughter is in Moscow, the other - the eldest - lives in the village. That man does not drink, he is an artisan. About them and think in half, they live well. They themselves have grandchildren. But the local daughter, albeit in front of our eyes, is a pity more than anyone else. They live like a train station. She herself became like a sliver, she also swears with this man almost every other day. She divorced her first due to drinking. The second, although he does not drink, is somehow ordinary, and not independent. He is worse than any woman. They argue about trifles, but why argue? There is money, well-fed, shod. Thank God, the time has improved, the stores are full of everything. It used to be that before the chintz was brought to the shop - they bought it by lot. And now they don’t know what to wear, they take gifts for every holiday. And the holidays are on their way. And between themselves? Often like dogs. "Is that what I taught her?" - to herself, the grandmother says bitterly.
And she remembers a long time ago. Old, but so clear, local, as if it had not gone away. Men and wives never slept apart before. If only they go to war or to work. And now something? Women are too lazy to give birth to children, men have forgotten how to feed their families.
Is it a man if he earns less than his wife?
And suddenly she becomes ashamed that she is sneaking people. She scolds herself in a hasty whisper and remembers yesterday's letter from the village.
It's a pity. It is a pity for all - suffering now and those who have suffered. There, they write in the letter, susse-darling ordinary, younger than her, but dead. He was going to live until he was ninety. Do not forget to remember in church. Oh, how much man has endured! And he was wounded and robbed. The skin was torn off in captivity, spitting into the eyes.
She also remembers her own husband, who perished in the last war. Behind him, the mother-in-law, sister-in-law and brother-in-law come to mind. What can I say, she was not painfully affectionate, the deceased. Yes fair. He used to sit by the samovar, the first cup for her husband, the second for her son. And the third is not for herself and not for her underage sister-in-law, but for her, the daughter-in-law. Father-in-law, too - not at once, but thawed, but then he did not let anyone offend.
The old man was stern, what can I say. It’s a sin to remember, I came into the house, spinning as if on a sule. Once she swept the hut, looks, and under the bench lies a silver ruble. In the house alone. It was a stupid thing, I didn’t immediately guess that they were deliberately thrown in, but anyway, before the paugny, I handed the money to the old man: “Here, darling, I found it under the bench.” I was so happy and happy! He praised, stroked his head like a little one. The elder sister-in-law did not sell cows, he made her, the daughter-in-law, big. Long life, oh long, you can do a lot.
Grandmother's thoughts flow one after another, but then the parquet creaked in the corridor, the kettle rattled in the kitchen. Wake up, get up. Grandmother suddenly remembers that today is Sunday and that she must go for a walk with her granddaughter. Her soul begins to ache. Grandmother goes unnoticed to the window and furtively looks out into the street, in the direction where there is a telephone booth and a greengrocer's shop. Is it here? Here already. Stands, cordial, in a gray cloak, collar turned up. Smokes. The granddaughter is still sleeping, but he is standing. So every Sunday morning, he comes and waits until the grandmother and granddaughter go out into the yard. But sometimes the daughter herself takes the girl for a walk in the park, and then he pulls down his collar, closes himself in a telephone booth. And stands behind the glass until they pass.
And then a big one public organization Boys and Girls Clubs of America invited me to be the lead speaker at a national conference, and I gave my first paid lecture. Although since 1998 I have spoken quite often to large business audiences, the lion's share of which were salespeople, managers and company executives, I decided that, thanks to tousled hair, a (rather) youthful appearance and the nickname Your Pal Hal, I had a direct route to work. with youth, and began speaking and telling his story at local schools and colleges.
2007 This year my life went to hell. The crisis hit the US economy. Literally overnight, my income was halved. My clients could no longer afford coaching. And I could not pay bills, including for the house. I had accumulated over four hundred thousand dollars of debt, I was crushed and devastated. Mentally, physically, emotionally and financially. And plunged into the darkness of despondency. Never in my life have I felt so hopeless, so broken, so desperate. At a loss to find a way to get life back on track, I struggled to solve insurmountable problems: reading self-help books, attending seminars, even hiring a personal coach, all to no avail.
2008 This year, the situation began to improve little by little. I finally confessed to a close friend how bad things were (I had kept my problems a secret until now). He immediately asked: "Are you exercising?" I replied that I actually have a hard time getting out of bed in the morning, so no, I don't.“And you start running,” he said. “You’ll see, it will help you feel better and clear your mind.” Ugh, I hate running. But I was so desperate that I took the advice of a friend and went for a run the next morning. What I learned while running was a turning point in my life (read more in Chapter 2). It was in the process of running that inspiration came to me, thanks to which I developed a set of daily activities that was supposed to help me develop into the person I needed to become in order to solve the problems that had piled on me and change my life for the better. And, incredible as it may seem, my method actually worked. Almost every aspect of my life that was important to me improved so quickly that I called this method my Miracle Morning.
Autumn 2008. I continued to develop his"Miracle Morning" by experimenting with different practices personal development and sleep patterns and exploring how much sleep a person actually needs. I must say that my conclusions completely destroyed the patterns and attitudes towards this issue of so many people, including myself. I liked the results so much that I shared them with my coaching clients, who also liked them. They shared my findings with their friends, relatives, and colleagues. And one day the moment came when I began to meet on Facebook and Twitter stories about "miraculous mornings" of people whom I had never met in my life (more on this later).
The morning routine is quite popular these days. It all comes down to a productive start so that you have the best day. And there are reasons why you should add reading to your morning to-do list. If your morning routine is yelling at your husband, at your kids, running around the house looking for your lost keys, and running out forgetting to comb your hair and eat something, you need to rethink this kind of life.
Why is the morning routine popular today? We love to talk about how to start the day on the right wavelength, so to speak. Do you make a breakfast ritual and cook oatmeal with fruit? Do you enjoy your cup of coffee or swap it out for lemon water or a green smoothie? No matter how else you want to start your day, you should consider reading a book. That's why reading in the morning will improve your productivity.
You will have a real break
Modern life is not for the faint of heart. It's constant text messages, and Instagram notifications, and a load of stress. From morning to night, you are always running somewhere, in a hurry. From the moment you leave your apartment in the morning and go to the office, the nightmare begins. You perform important tasks, deal with office affairs, meet deadlines. And that's just your job. You don't even relax, although you should, because you are always answering work emails, scrolling through social media and think about work. You can also be in the office around the clock, considering how little you relax.
When you read a book in the morning, you give yourself a real break. It's quite a pleasant experience to relax as soon as you open your eyes. Think about it this way: what will calm you down? Scrolling through Instagram again, wondering why people's lives seem so much more perfect than yours? Or reading a juicy novel, memoir, biography famous people? The choice is quite obvious, isn't it? Be sure to try this morning trick and see the result.
You will get inspiration
If you set aside a half hour or so early in the day to read a non-fiction piece, you will be inspired early in the morning, especially if you can find something related to business or even a book that talks about an industry that interests you. Even if you are reading a novel, you will still be inspired. Reading has always been a magical activity. The thing is that at this time you are transported to another world, thinking about some kind of society and how people act, feel and think. If you have really crazy days, you might want to set your alarm an hour early so you have time to read. This will inspire you too. There is something special about such a moment of awakening. You will get out of bed with great pleasure, because if you have a lot of things planned, there will be reading first. It will relax and inspire you for a working day.
This is also meditation.
Of course, you are not going to sit cross-legged on the floor of your house with your eyes closed and your palms open. This precise definition meditation. But you can meditate in different ways. Even just sitting alone and focusing on something that doesn't involve technology or your iPhone can honestly be considered meditation too. And such a process is definitely good for you: you will be less nervous, which, of course, is good in this crazy world. Try it! You won't believe how your whole day can change. Think of it like yoga for your mind. You shouldn't feel any guilt because you deserve to set aside some time to relax as well. After a week of such procedures, you will realize that you have been waiting for this for a long time.
You will have time for yourself
Nowadays, time means a lot to yourself. People would even be surprised if they found a balance between work and personal life. They usually wish they had more time for themselves (perhaps because everyone spends their free time while looking at the iPhone instead of actually using it). Adding reading to your morning routine ensures that you have some time for yourself, and it will come even before the craziest day starts. You won't even care if your boss dumps more work on your desk if your friend cancels a long-planned lunch. Taking some time for yourself will do wonders for your productivity because you won't resent your workload. You will not regret that today is not Sunday and you cannot be lazy, lie on the couch, watch a movie. You will feel that you have enough rest and will be able to work without problems.
You will have time to think
It is very easy to get lost in your thoughts during these busy days. If you're dealing with an annoying situation or trying to fix a problem, it will haunt you all day long as you sit at your desk trying to get some work done. If you read a little in the morning, it gives you some time to think. Of course, you will focus on the story or the advice, depending on whether you are diving into the novel or scientific book but your brain will definitely wander if you have something on your mind and it's very helpful.
By the end of the next reading session, you will find ways to solve the problem, and this will free you from the load, give you the most productive day. It's amazing how it detracts from what's going on in your personal life: from your best friend, which gets on your nerves, from your boyfriend who does not want to reveal his true feelings.
Conclusion
In this way, you will be doing a huge favor to your emotional health, and your relationship will improve as well. Who knew that the simple act of reading a book could do so much? Do you read in the morning? How do you usually start your day? Do you think reading fiction or scientific would be the best start to the day?