The alarm goes off. I hit the snooze button. After these processes are repeated for a few turns, I remove myself from my blankets, thus tearing the wrapper off of a brand new day. I never realized how symbolic this act is until just recently. For every new sunrise, I am given the chance to make a difference. A difference in other people’s lives—those of students, professors, my husband, my friends.

“Perhaps today, I’ll get to make a difference in my own life as well,” I reflect as I wipe the brittle sleep from my bloodshot eyes.

And so I do.

I make it happen. Whether it’s reading a small piece of wisdom straight from Aristotle’s Rhetoric or treating myself to a pedicure, I'll try from this point forward to make a difference for myself every now and then.

I may have discovered the key to avoiding burnout. It could be the mortar that binds the bricks of my sanity together. Maybe I’ve finally succeeded at partitioning a larger part of my psyche and using it for the “forces of good.” Or it's possible that I’m just going through a phase. Whatever it is, I would like to make it a part of my daily regimen.

A sunrise is recyclable to many people. I choose the crispness and the smoothness of a new one each day, myself.