In our weekly conversation salon via Skype, Marc Farre (wonderful indie musician, wordsmith and former colleague in NY adlife) raised the question “What time of day is most creatively productive?” Knowing a good post topic when I hear one, I wrote the line down to consider it at length later.

Morning, said Marc, is his best creative time; the time when we are closest to the numinous, to the unfettered expressions of our dreams. There is something to be said for that.

Long-gone are the days when I would work a full day in adworld, come home to nap for a couple of hours and write until two a.m. I completed two published books that way. I was younger then. More recent history has been defined by a routine of job, gym and writing until the more sedate hour of ten, and morning-to-evening writing every weekend.

That is changed, now.

The demands of the move have not left me enough time or energy to do much of anything. The recent (and very difficult) brief chapter-in-progress has left me with a jumble of impressions that are, at last night’s taped reading, painfully sort of impetus. But having the mornings to spend at the page: An extraordinary thing.

Creative energy is, to some extent, physical energy…a Newtonian transformation of that energy to thought, and from there to the page. I do write tired. We all do—we have to. But to have a full store of mental, physical and emotional energy to lens down onto the exercise of judgment, imagination and possibility…there is something breathtaking about that.

Sure, we face roadblocks and speedbumps. Writerly ADD, the intrusions of the day’s other requirements, the occasional need to do nothing more than flake out and stare at walls…those things are still much with me. They will still demand to be dealt with, once the rhythms of my days even themselves out.

For now, I am trying to find the patience to see the numinous that is the subject of the chapter in progress; the setup for the finale of the book. To reveal the seeking of Ancient Light. To describe the joining with it. Who’da thunk that something so ethereal would be so real-world complicated?