There’s a quiet moment each day before the world wakes up—a thin slice of time that belongs to no one but you. For as long as I can remember, that hour has been my family’s anchor. I’ve come to call it “The Early Risers Club.” There’s no membership card and no rules, but the lessons behind it have shaped my life.
My earliest memories of mornings go back to my grandparents’ farms and to my dad, who grew up outside Toledo, Ohio. Before dawn, while most children slept, he was feeding livestock, gathering eggs and starting a long walk to school. It wasn’t glamorous or easy, but it instilled responsibility, discipline and purpose.
When I was a kid, those values showed up differently. Our mornings started early whether we liked it or not. Later, as a teenager, I delivered newspapers, a job that demanded consistency. You couldn’t hit snooze if the paper had to be on the porch before sunrise. Weather didn’t matter; the job had to get done. Looking back, those were some of the most formative mornings of my life.
What I didn’t realize then was that routines like these were laying a foundation. Like many habits we inherit from our parents, I didn’t appreciate their impact until years later.
Today, rising early isn’t about chores or paper routes. It’s about clarity. In those predawn hours, the noise of the world hasn’t started yet. There are no emails, no meetings—just space. The kind that lets you think, read or simply breathe.
People often ask how I find time to read so much. The answer is simple: I wake up early. Long before the day begins, I’ve already put my mind to work. Reading centers me and makes me more present for whatever comes next.
But the Early Risers Club isn’t really about productivity; it’s about presence. It reminds us that we choose how we start our day. Do we begin in reaction to the world, or with intention?
Friends and colleagues tell me they rely on the same principle: a workout, a book, a quiet moment of reflection or simply enjoying the stillness. The activity varies, but the effect is the same—starting the day on your own terms steadies everything that follows.
I think often of my family in those early hours. My dad passed not long ago, but I still hear his quiet steadiness in the morning silence. He never chased recognition. He believed in showing up, doing the work and treating people kindly. He didn’t give speeches about discipline—he lived it.
And that’s the real gift of the Early Risers Club: it connects you to the people who shaped you. My family didn’t explain their values; they demonstrated them. Each morning, I feel a little closer to them.
In a world filled with distraction and noise, maybe what we all need is a moment of stillness before the demands pile up—a chance to think about who we want to be and how we want to show up for others.
Whether someone wakes at 5 a.m. or 8 a.m. doesn’t matter. What matters is carving out a moment of intention before the day pulls you in a hundred directions.
The Early Risers Club isn’t exclusive. Anyone can join. All it takes is reclaiming the first few minutes of your day and filling them with something meaningful. For me, it’s a tribute to my family. For others, it may be something different. But the benefits are universal: clarity, intention and gratitude for those who shaped who we are.
And if all else fails, you can always call Jake from State Farm. He’s up early, too.
Thank you Joe
Sent from my iPhone
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