08/06/2025

ON SUNDAY JUNE 8, 2025 theSunday Special IX

Mornings are sacred … if we let them be It’s not about waking earlier. It’s about waking quieter. In Malaysia, mornings come with their own rhythm — the faint call to prayers in the distance, the hiss of frying in the kitchen, motorbikes starting up in the lanes. It’s a time when the world hasn’t quite revved into full speed. There’s space. There’s light. And there’s a rare op portunity to be alone with your thoughts EHIRUH WUḊ F OLWHUDO DQG PHQWDO VWDUWV You don’t need to call it mindfulness. You don’t need to chant affirmations. You don’t need to brew oolong tea in a traditional Taiwanese porcelain set. You can just sit. Or stand by the sink with a warm mug. Or water the plants. Or walk barefoot to your gate and notice the sky. It’s not what you do – it’s the intention behind it. The point isn’t productivity. It’s pres ence. And that presence can make a VXUSULVLQJ GL̆ HUHQFH

Soft rebellion against the rush culture In a country like ours, where work hours stretch late and commutes can be long, mornings may be the only time we truly RZQ 6R FODLPLQJ HYHQ D VOLYHU RI LW ¿YH gentle minutes, is an act of grounding. A quiet rebellion against rush culture. You don’t need a better alarm clock. You don’t need a morning playlist curated for dopamine hits. You just need a slight pause. Because when the rest of the day starts pulling at you – the deadlines, the group chats, the surprises – you’ll have some thing solid underneath. A calmer nervous system. A clearer head. So here’s the reminder before you scroll, take a sip. Before you reply, breathe. Before you rush, rest. Five quiet minutes. It might not change your life. But it could change your morning. And some days, that’s all you need.

gives you a sturdier base. It’s easier to ride the day’s chaos when you didn’t start in it. Not every morning needs a win Now, author Robin Sharma and his 5AM Club PLJKW LQVLVW ¿YH PLQXWHV LVQ¶W enough. He’d likely argue that greatness requires early triumph – with HIIT work outs, journaling and vision boards done before the neighbour has boiled water for her Milo. Fair enough, his system has helped many. But let’s be honest: not everyone is designed to function before dawn. Not everyone wants their mornings to feel like a motivational seminar. That’s why five minutes matter. It’s doable. Flexible. Human. Not a new identity. Just a small act of self-respect. There’s a common myth that peace requires grand gestures – retreats, resolu tions or revolutions. But often, peace can be found in smaller places. A patch of light in your kitchen. The sound of birds. The ¿UVW VLS RI KRW FR̆ HH EHIRUH DQ\RQH HOVH LV awake. The absence of noise. If you miss a day, nothing breaks. This isn’t an all-or-nothing ritual. It’s a soft habit – forgiving, repeatable and easily picked up again. You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to begin again whenever you remember.

A calm start gives you a sturdier base. It’s easier to ride the day’s chaos when you didn’t start in it.

A gentle landing: Ending the day on your terms

IF five quiet minutes in the morning can anchor our start, then five quiet minutes at night can help us feel soothed when we land. In a world that idolises early mornings and productive dawns, the quieter side of the day often slips away unnoticed. We speak of seizing the day, winning the morning, owning the week, but rarely about surrendering the night with the same care. Yet how we close a day matters. Per haps even more than how we begin it. The hours before sleep are a bridge: from noise to silence, from action to reflec tion, from doing to simply being. A jagged ending, doom-scrolling under blue light, working late into exhaustion, collapsing into bed with a mind still buzzing – doesn’t just rob us of rest. It follows us into the next day like a shadow we can’t quite shake off.

The art of unwinding Unwinding isn’t a luxury reserved for beach holidays or spa days. It’s a daily human need, as natural as eating or breathing. Just like a good meal doesn’t have to be grand, a good evening doesn’t need perfection. A soft landing can be as simple as one small, mindful act. Standing barefoot on cool tiles while brush ing your teeth. Listening to the quiet hum of your house after the day’s chaos. Watching the ceiling fan turn slowly while your body exhales the last tightness from your shoulders. These are not milestones. They are markers. They tell the nervous system, it’s safe to let go now. Rituals, not routines There’s a difference between routines and rituals. Routines chase efficiency. Rituals invite meaning.

You don’t need an elaborate checklist before bed – no 12-step skin care regimen, no productivity tracker counting your “wins”. What you need is something that marks the end of striving. A symbolic act that says: “This day is complete. I am complete, even with its im perfections.” It could be dimming the lights earlier. Putting away your devices an hour before sleep. Sitting quietly with a book that doesn’t demand anything from you. Or simply telling yourself, out loud or silently: enough for today. The silence before tomorrow In Malaysia, the later hours carry a special texture. The air cools slightly, the streets hush, the neighbourhood cats reclaim their kingdoms. It’s a kind of natural cue if we care to notice – an invitation to slow our breathing to match the night’s softer pulse.

Yet, many of us barrel through these signals. We check one more email. Watch one more episode. Scroll one more feed. The day blurs into night without ceremony, without honour. But there is another way. We can allow ourselves to step into the night, even when we’re tired, unfinished, messy maybe, but human. We can build a small island of stillness that no meeting, no news cycle, no algorithm can touch. A few minutes is enough. No fanfare needed. In the end, the goal isn’t to end the day “better”. It’s simply to end the day whole. When you give yourself a gentler land ing at night, you give yourself a truer takeoff the next morning – no matter what the day may bring.