First Light

There is a small space of time in the early hours of the morning just before sunrise and when the sun is first coming up that I love. Everything in my small world is cloaked in sleep as though covered in a cool morning fog and I am quiet after just waking and opening my eyes. I stare absently at the ceiling. It is when I do some of my clearest thinking because I’m not trying to think at all; no noise, no busy day, no crowded convoluted thoughts have had the chance to barge in and demand my attention; even after sleepless dreams I can just close my eyes, let the spiraling thoughts dissipate and feel the calm of the morning quiet steady my nerves.

There is a small airport strip near my home and this morning I can hear a single engine plane flying overhead, the steady humming of the engine creating a rhythmic sound as it passes over. Perhaps its pilot is on the way out for a jaunt across the open summer sky, or perhaps headed to pickup and deliver goods to a tiny island nestled somewhere in the Caribbean Sea. My imagination roams.

Sometimes the birds chirp loudly outside my door, singing and digging for worms; but this morning they are all quiet as if they feel like me and want to steady themselves in the warm summer air and fold their wings for a moment’s rest.

My cats love this time of the morning, too. They lounge on the carpet or on a tossed-off blanket and lie quiet, each with their head resting on their paws, as though they sense the stillness too.

Eventually, they will both run up and down the hall and get into mischief like cats do, and the birds will stir and begin their morning concert of chirping and singing, branch-hopping and flying busily from tree to tree, and more planes will buzz about the sky to unknown destinations; and I will get up and set my silver kettle on the stove to boil fresh water that will become rich fragrant tea to fill the room with spices and the promise of a new day. 

But for now in this slice of solitude, in this moment of quiet clarity, I can reconnect with a silence that steadies me; it is a small fragment of time when my mind is as quiet as the air around me.

It is when I often see the clearest because I am not trying to understand, when I often think the clearest because I am not yet awake enough to crowd my own thoughts with rules or time or space; it is often when the deepest parts of my heart speak to me in moments of transparent lucidity because I am actually listening with no resistance or logic, and my mind roams wherever it will because I am still not awake enough for the static noise of life to jam the signal. It is when I know myself better and what really matters to me, beyond pride or uncertainty or fear; and when I feel the draw of being connected to life and something greater than myself. These moments are there in all of us, waiting for a chance to surface; un-convoluted moments of clarity when our guard is down and our heart is free to speak and for just a brief moment we can see simply, letting our squinted eyes and strained vision relax and go out of focus, moving us beyond the blurry outer layer and into the vast 3-D image that so often is hidden behind our own fears and uncertainties. It is a moment when we have stepped out of our own way and let something real and deeper take hold, what has been there just under that surface waiting for a quiet moment of simple un-awareness of the noise and a heightened awareness of who we are at our most unpolluted self.

I breathe in a deep breath and close my eyes.

Another tiny plane passes overhead as the sky traffic begins to pick up, different planes each on the way to some unknown destination. I will journey too, as time goes by; we all will; to destinations unknown to us now and veiled in mystery and uncertainty but there is also beauty in the not knowing if we learn to breathe and just be and let it unfold as it will, before our very eyes.

The sun is beginning to peek around the edges of the curtains now, as though beckoning me with its warm glow and to smile and breathe in the air of a new day and see where it takes me. I think I will.

 

Just Be

Today was a busy day, working and running errands and trying to get everything done that needed to be done. Long day, busy streets, going to the market, I was really ready to get home. When I left the grocery store I noticed a thunderstorm moving in. As I turned into my neighborhood, I had a better view of the sky all around and was surprised by the sight. On one side of the sky there were deep grey clouds, and on the other, sunshine breaking through amid patches of blue. And in the middle of the sky where the two met, there was rain falling down, not too hard, not just a drip, but a steady, gentle rain, like a veil cascading over the deep green grass that lined the sides of the streets as I drove by. When I pulled into my driveway I opened my car door, and the rich smell of fresh earth and green, green grass permeated the air as I got out and took a deep breath. Such a beautiful sight, those rain drops, refracting the sunlight like hundreds of tiny prisms dancing about in the air and against the pavement. I got out of my car, the warm summer air all around me like an old friend, and as I took another deep breath of the rain-fragrant air, a deep distant rumble of thunder rolled across the landscape. I walked out to my back yard and took it all in, leaving the umbrella behind. The raindrops were falling softly against a canopy of deep green leaves and ivy behind my home, and the birds were flying about high above between the branches of the trees and up into the sky, as if telling me to remember what life is really about and to just be. I looked at the rain falling down and couldn’t help but grin and feel myself laugh as the drops tickled my face, and I took off my shoes as I watched the birds lark about, and remembered that there is so much to be grateful for; I can see; there were summer sounds all around me; I heard the sound of the distant thunder and the birds singing and a tiny frog hidden away somewhere in the brush croaking, as though telling an amusing story to himself, and I remembered that I can hear; I felt the warm wet ground beneath my feet as I stood there, rain falling on me, all around me, and remembered that I can feel; I breathed in deep breaths of the warm summer air, all heavy with rain and sunlight, and I remembered that I can breathe. Gifts that mean so much, and that I too often forget to be grateful for in the middle of the hustle and bustle. It is so easy to forget to just be. The best gifts are often the most simple and I am reminded of what really matters when all is said and done. Now let me look about, there must be a rainbow hidden away amongst those clouds.