Good morning, sunshine: what would your morning would look like if you were Gwyneth Paltrow?

Morning routines are supposed to be the thing that turn your life from drab to fab. Have you ever wondered about the morning routines of those most fab? Lucky us, I have a secret power to see the morning routines of the deities of our world: celebrities.

Photo by John Townerjpg

Good Morning, Gwyneth Paltrow

When Gwyneth wakes up in the morning, it's because a Beam of Sunshine kissed her toes.

Beam of Sunshine is what she calls her children. One of her children is kissing her toes. Is that weird?

Weirdness, as a concept, does not exist in Gwyneth's world, only true paths and false selves.

Toe-kissing demonstrates love and adoration for Gwyneth's motherhood, as well as the humility that can only come from connecting to one's power. It is a true path.

(As an aside, her toes are always perfectly pedicured, yet she has never been seen holding nail polish because of chemicals. Perhaps they are naturally coloured.)

After considering pretending to still be asleep, she remembers that she is grateful for everything, including wakefulness. She embraces the morning, along with all experiences.

She looks at her jade yoni egg, set upon a golden, bejewelled pedestal that looks like one of the rejected chalices in Indiana Jones. With the power of her womb it disappears from its display and materializes inside her. She thanks and worships her matriarchal lineage for giving her such a strong uterus.

It is a 45 minute meditation where, to look at her, you might think dear Gwyneth is dead.

Now she is up, and awake to her power.

Her Beam of Sunshine has begun crying loudly.

She breathes and focuses on the vibrations of her womb space. She does a secret, more powerful version of yoga only available to third-tier GOOPers wherein her body actually transforms into the animal that will act as her guide for that day. Today she is a porpoise. She flops around on the ground for two minutes.

As Gwyneth transforms back into her human form, she whispers, "You must connect with the sea to find your righteousness."

There is now a new article on GOOP that will make landlocked women worry they will never be able to find said righteousness, and thus will never be able to say, "I'm sorry if my truth hurts you, but I cannot worry about your rightness, only my own."

She opens her arms to her sobbing Beam of Sunshine, and in her embrace, the tears turn into deep self-assurance.

Hand-in-hand, they walk/float downstairs to where their breakfast oxygen infusions are waiting.

The day has begun.

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