The Illusion of The Rising Sun

During late spring and summer, and a wee bit into fall, I am able to wake up and look sleepily out the window to watch the illusion of the sun rising. Sometimes I think it is very telling that we refer to this time of day as “sunrise”. For in fact, the sun does not rise, but rather we are spinning.

jan 2013a

This past week there were two special sunrises. One, as my neighbor described it, was electric pink. A full 360 degree jolt of varying hues and intensity. The other sunrise was just a jumbled, raucous, out of tune, off beat, brouhaha of crow noise. It was deafening.I don’t even remember if there was color!

As I lay safe in bed, safe in my house, safe in my neighborhood, safe in my town, I felt the weight of a terrible suffering that left me feeling deflated and weak as I thought about the shooting in Orlando. I felt for days as if I had been punctured and was slowly being flattened . It was almost as if I could feel the world spinning…..but it felt out of control, not finely choreographed by the Universe.

Recently there was a post on Pema Chodron’s page:

BEYOND OUR COMFORT ZONE
“Compassion is threatening to the ego. We might think of it as something warm and soothing, but actually it’s very raw. When we set out to support other beings, when we go so far as to stand in their shoes, when we aspire to never close down to anyone, we quickly find ourselves in the uncomfortable territory of “life not on my terms.” The second commitment, traditionally known as the Bodhisattva Vow, or warrior vow, challenges us to dive into these noncozy waters and swim out beyond our comfort zone.

Our willingness to make the first commitment is our initial step toward relaxing completely with uncertainty and change. The commitment is to refrain from speech and action that would be harmful to ourselves and others and then to make friends with the underlying feelings that motivate us to do harm in the first place. The second commitment builds on this foundation: we vow to move consciously into the pain of the world in order to help alleviate it. It is, in essence, a vow to take care of one another, even if it sometimes means not liking how that feels.”
(From her book Living Beautifully With Uncertainty and Change)

One of the comments cut through these words like a razor edged sword:

So we are supposed to step into the shoes of the killers, and understand them?
I don’t think I can do that.”

How do we do this when it seems as if violence and hate are blanketing the world? Has there always been what seems to be an unbearable amount, and the internet and 24/7 news loops help us see it as spreading disease? And…..desensitizes us to it through endless replay until we are so overwhelmed that we believe there is nothing that can be changed?

How do we get to the point where love IS a verb not an emotional enigma? How do we disarm hate? How do we end violence? How do we allow peace into the world?

How do we get the place where we can imagine ourselves in the shoes of the shooter AND the shoes of the victims. The shoes of our “brothers and sisters” and the shoes of the “Other”.

For us to alleviate the pain we have to commit to taking care of each other. Caring about each other. Every single each other.

Going beyond my comfort zone has led me to places I never thought about going. Places I never wanted to go. I have stepped over dead bodies. I have walked through the hell of Concentration Camps. I have seen unimaginable beauty in the eyes of a young child whose arm was cut off so his begging would be more lucrative. I have sat with 13-year-old mothers cradling their sleeping child. I have seen the sadhu with their arms frozen in contorted positions. I have smelled burning flesh. I have seen a woman beaten. I have been circled and touched for being female, tall, white, light-haired and blue-eyed.  I have grown so much as my children have navigated adulthood and seen, thought, experienced, been made aware of and expressed things I had not thought about. Coming into older years in life I have more time to think back on what my mother and father instilled in me.

Everything has a tag line now……a label identifying it as something that seems to isolate it from other things. From other people. Movements, Groups and Causes. I don’t know where I fit or where I belong. Or where it is okay for me to be. Where I am supposed to be. Why do I have to be in any of them?

I am a human being on the planet earth. Those two things bind me to every other single person on the planet. There is nothing in those two things that can separate me from anyone else. And that is what I hold on to….finding what does not separate me from the dead in Orlando, the bombed in Syria, the oppressed in Palestine, the young hostages of Boko Haram, the terrorist, the murderer, the mentally ill, the black youth shot dead in streets, the addict, the sex worker, the starving, the dark, sometimes invisible side of humanity.

I can choose to be separate by identifying myself  as American, Christian Buddhist, white, married, heterosexual, a mother, a wife.

Or I can say yes, I fit in those labels, but first I am a Human Being on planet earth and I will not use those categories to separate myself from feeling compassion for all others and to embrace love as a verb and do something to lift others who by reason of chance are in pain, suffering, struggling……

I don’t have answers. I don’t always get it right. But I do try to be aware and not allow the news to desensitize me. I make financial donation where I can. I go to vigils because of respect. I challenge racist and bigoted comments, I get information from all sources not the ones that support my beliefs. I write to my Representatives. I vote. I know there are always 2 or 3 sides to a story. I can and should do more.

But mostly I challenge myself not to dismiss the life of anyone as being insignificant or irrelevant. Or useless. Or evil. At a bare minimum I can choose to recognize the common and shared threads that are spun out of love. So, when I put myself in the shoes of another, they fit. They fit because at a bare bones level they are a Human Being, they live on this planet, they have been loved by someone, they have loved another and they have experienced joy and they have suffered.

I can condemn their actions, their motives. I can work to define solutions to war, poverty, starvation, disease, mental health complexities, fear, isolation, racism, and class to possibly prevent someone from having the anger, fear, hate, suffering, oppression, stigma that leads to horrible, violent actions.

I do not ever want to be blind to or complacent to the fact I am a white American living a middle class comfortable life. Sometimes this brings pain to my heart. It is a privilege and as such it brings responsibility to help, love, care for those who do not have shelter, food, clothing, a job, medical care, education, safety, a voice. It brings the responsibility to end things that divide: religion, race, wealth.

It is time to swim out beyond our comfort zone and “vow to move consciously into the pain of the world in order to help alleviate it. It is, in essence, a vow to take care of one another, even if it sometimes means not liking how that feels.”

The more you swim, the stronger you get. The further you go. There is another shore we can walk on together. If we are not afraid to get in the water and start swimming beyond our comfort zone.

Sign the Charter for Comapssion

 

 

 

Advertisements

This Moment

40916 rise2

I want to stand each moment of each day with my arms wide open.
I want to stand fragile and strong before everything that is now.
I want to hold my arms wide open and speak my heart in this moment.
  I have only what is here now.
And I choose to hold my arms wide open right now.
To embrace the joy of this moment as the sun rises.
To be comforted and sheltered in the love given freely from others.
To receive and accept that love with humility and in gratitude.

To hear the cries and screams of humans around the world at this moment.
To shed my tears and sing my songs to what is here now.
To feel, and not shut out what it means to be human.
My arms are wide open to this moment.
To everything.
To everyone.
I stand with my arms are wide open to this moment.
~ KBH 2016

I was on a silent retreat two weeks ago, and in that silence I cried often. I had to sit silently with those tears and the feelings and thoughts that brought them forth. I had to let them be. Real. Full of sorrow. The hurt and misery in the world brought about by one human being to another human being was like a cattle prod to my heart and soul. All that could manifest were the tears.

During a short meeting time with Joan Tollifson I expressed my feelings of sorrow. In her talks of ‘unbroken wholeness’, or, similarly, ‘the perfection of imperfection’, she points out there is no one-sided coin. Things in the world are as they are, in this moment. We cannot deny the hurt, suffering and pain in the world. Joan shares her thoughts that we have to move from empathy with our fellow human beings who are in pain and suffering and rise to compassion. Through empathy I may be able to understand and share (in most cases minutely so…) the feeling of others, but through compassion I elevate them to a “universal and transcending” experience. (Psychology Today)  Compassion builds on empathy and impels us towards deeper humanitarianism.

I will not stop believing we can do better for and by one another, no matter who the “other” may be. In this moment I take small actions by listening to and checking the words I speak, to keep judgment, bias, hate, fear and narrow-mindedness at bay.  In this moment I work to understand the fears I have and to inspect them for validity. In this moment, with compassion and interest, I listen to the spoken stories of others in an effort to learn and understand, so that I may be informed, free from fear and ignorance and grow in compassion and consideration. In this moment I look beyond my sheltered world, to a world where there is so much violence, hatred and hurt. In this moment I remember I am the same as “others” on so many levels. In this moment I can choose action or inaction. With arms wide open to this moment I open up the possibility of action. I open up to compassion and grow in understanding. With that compassion and understanding I may, as a result, be the source of a small increment of change for the greater good of our world and all people.

In this moment I stand with arms wide open.

[

Enmeshed

In her beautiful article for the magazine LIFE AS A HUMAN, Lakota writer Mary Black Bonnet explains,

“For Lakotas one of our common mantras is “Mitakuye Oyasin” — we are all related.
All of us, no matter who you are (person), or what you are (grass, trees, rocks), are the same.
No one is better than anyone else.
Our lives really are circular, and yes, everything REALLY is related to everything else.
Some say related — I like to say enmeshed, because it really is.”

water treesmh1

Mary goes on to explain that along with this sense of Mitakuye Oyasin comes the practice of gratitude. Not the kind of gratitude most of us practice, but full on, constant awareness and complete physical, spiritual and mental gratitude from the moment we open our eyes in the morning until we close them at the end of the day.

Mary Black Bonnet writes, “By the time I’ve ingested my food and am ready to start my day, I’ve already offered up thanks for so many things.”

This practice of being grateful is something I am consciously working on. It is difficult. It is not about coming to the end of the day and running through a litany of things to be thankful for. It is about having the presence of mind and pausing in that awareness as things happen, and saying “Thank you.”

My hard wiring causes me to begin planning and ordering my day as soon as I open my eyes. The mental lists form. A tightening in my body occurs as I feel overwhelmed some days before I even get out of bed. (And I have a pretty easy day, job and life) Some mornings before I get out of bed I find I am anticipating how many hours until I can get back in it.

I am working on giving up that routine. When I open my eyes I look outside and focus on Nature, the world. These winter mornings it is still dark and quiet. (This past week the moon, along with Saturn and Venus put on quite a show. I could see them from my pillow. There was no way to avoid the brightness, the light, the breath-taking beauty.)  I stay there in bed, for minutes after I “should” be up and I practice gratitude. It changes my physical body, I stay soft and relaxed. It changes my mental state, there is less anxiousness, worry, feeling of being overwhelmed. It changes my emotions. I don’t feel grumpy or cranky. I am instead at ease, grounded, open minded.

That takes 5 minutes.

As Mary writes, we are all a part of everything else….enmeshed, tangled up together, caught up in everything else. Thích Nhất Hạnh calls this “Interbeing”.  Alan Watts reminds us:

If you see yourself in the correct way,
you are all as much extraordinary phenomena of nature as trees,
clouds, the patterns in running water, the flickering of fire,
the arrangement of the stars, and the form of a galaxy.
You are all just like that
…”

When we begin to learn to approach our life a little differently from what the TV shows, news, magazine photos, consumer advertising, would have us believe is the life we need to attain and defines a life well lived, we may discover something else. I get it that not everyone is into this. It’s where I am right now.

I am learning that life defined in softness and stillness, in awareness and being present, in interbeing and inter-connectedness, in gratitude, is a life of beauty and wonder, gentleness and hope.

In the morning when I open my eyes and see that crescent moon flirting with Venus and Saturn, I strive to remember to  see myself “in the correct way”. The way that tells us we “are all as much extraordinary phenomena of nature as…the arrangement of the stars and the form of a galaxy.” I remember we are all related. “Our lives really are circular, and yes, everything REALLY is related to everything else.”

And in remembering those things I am reminded to bathe in gratitude. To let gratitude flow over me and wash me clean from things that may not be as important as I make them out to be. When I do that I am changed. Compassion, gentleness, patience, less judgement, less worry fill my days. Not always…I am still learning. But, more often.

It’s a miraculous thing, Life. I don’t want the beauty, wonder, magic of it to be lost from me. I want to embrace and understand this state of Interbeing we are enmeshed in. I want gratitude to be the emotion that guides me.

Mary Black Bonnet’s article: We Are All Related

Link for LIFE AS A HUMAN Life As A Human

Link for Clouds In Each Paper by Thích Nhất Hạnh about Interbeing Clouds In Each Paper

*Photo by me. Roy H. Park Nature Preserve

 

 

The Birds Are Singing

There was no color in the sunrise this morning. It has been raining for about 20 hours straight. I woke up to the birds singing. They always do. Every morning. Rain or shine. Heat or cold. They sing.

foggyBLOG(rainy, foggy morning, by me)

I did not have to rush to get up. Nothing was required of me this morning so I stayed curled up in bed, next to a cat. I listened. To the birds. To my thoughts. To my heart.

I don’t have much to say today, except I feel worn down at the amount of sorrow and sadness I have felt these last few weeks. I get so upset by the violence, the hate and the fear.

Even when there is a ray of goodness and love, there seems to be someone, or a group of people who harbor so much anger, fear and hate, that they even tear love apart.

Fear of change is in there too. Things change all the time. It happens. Why do we fear it?

I don’t have any answers. I am not perfect. I admit to being afraid of change sometimes. But, I am consciously working on that because change is going to happen so I had better learn to cope. I feel anger. But when I look at that, it is only occasionally anger from something I am reacting to personally. Mostly it is anger at hearing or seeing something happen to others that seems cruel, unkind. I fear the unknown sometimes. But there is no way to know what will actually happen in the next minute, so I try not to fall into that trap too.

Then there is fear and hate. I fear open closet doors. Always have. And heights. Hate? I hate hate.

My father was a minister. I understand Christianity as interpreted by the Episcopal Church. As an adult I have let that go. This is a previous post about that: https://kathrynwonders.wordpress.com/2014/09/28/be-soft/

So, I do not fear God, or death. I respect that for others it is different. I adhere to Be Soft.

Religion did and does good things. But at it’s root it can beget violence because it creates an Us/Them scenario. A Right/Wrong script. It creates separation. It allows humans to be violent to protect what is seen as right, correct in the eyes of God. What human knows that?

So, we have Charleston and Kuwait. Good people. In houses of God. Murdered.

In response to Charleston calls rang out to remove the Confederate flag from the Statehouse grounds. Cries of “It’s our heritage. It’s our history.” rang out in response. This is what that heritage and history is, a “new government” that  was to be founded “upon the great truth that the negro is not equal to the white man; that slavery, subordination to the superior race, is his natural and normal condition.” The foundation of white supremacy.

I stayed in bed, curled up with my cat and listened to birds singing and thought.

In the United States our Supreme Court ruled that same sex marriage is a constitutional right under the 14th amendment. Guess what? People are so upset they say they’ll move to Canada. Which is funny because…..?! What do people think is going to happen when two men or two women get married? The world will not end. God will not strike us dead. There will be more love in the world. Dignity. Equality. Equality means equality. In all states, not some.

I had a young woman ask me if Isis was going to kill us all? That’s not the question, because we are doing it ourselves. ….“ since 9/11, jihadists have killed 26 Americans on U.S. soil, while those with right-wing leanings have killed 39. The single-most deadly event by an Islamic extremist was the 13 people killed at Fort Hood. On the right-wing side of the ledger, the worst was the six people slain at a Sikh Temple in Wisconsin.” (Politifact.org…actually almost any news source) And now we can add the 9 beautiful souls of Charleston.

On top of hate violence and murder, add our country’s poverty, hunger, homelessness, mental health crisis, illiteracy, gun violence, militarization of police and incarceration issues and we have a lot of people suffering.

And I stayed in bed curled up with my cat and listened to birds singing and thought.

There is a huge amount of goodness in the world. I am expecting two new little nieces/nephews this year. People like Bree Newsome exist. Mother Emmanuel Church in Charleston continues to open her doors to anyone. Love wins. People are finding their voices and speaking up through community action, civil disobedience. Conversations and dialog are beginning. Hopefully we are ready to address racism in this country. We are beginning to understand the fragility of this planet and take care of her. There are places in the world where the Milky Way is so close you might feel like you could almost touch it—while possibly understanding the miracle that is this pale blue dot.

Please. We are all human beings. We are all imperfect. We all deserve love, dignity, a chance to live in health, free from suffering and pain. Free from fear of violence. Can we not find a way to work together?

I finally left the cat in bed and got up. The birds are still singing.

Watching The Earth Move

It felt like driving towards a stage set dappled
with light filtered through colored gels.
The sun was setting and a blanket of subtly nuanced aubergine,
softening from shy purple to bold black,
covered the sky and land in false warmth.
“As I walk, as I walk the universe is walking with me.”

 

Like a tiny beacon from somewhere far away
a speck called Venus
and fleck called Mercury danced together with Earth.
It was a choreographed and timeless communion with the Universe.
Ever so slowly Venus and Mercury slipped lower
into the horizon.
“The universe is walking with me.”

 

This day faded and a new one began.
The sliver of the waning crescent moon
rose briefly before the sun was truly awake.
The locust tree, bare and with only a few rattling pods
dangling uncaringly,
stood silhouetted against the sherbet colors
of the waking day.
The journey of the earth,
unfelt,
was measured by the crescent moon
as it nestled in the crook of the locust branch.
As if resting in a nest.
And then, in the space of few breaths,
the thin sliver floated up into the sky.
Earth and moon moved on.
“In beauty it walks before me.”

 

Clouds appeared like pulled cotton
to soak up the colors of the dawning day.
Raspberry and orange strands melted away
as a deep periwinkle backdrop took over.
Three birds, small little moving black dots,
flew in front of the moon
as if to say “Follow us! This way!”
One fell behind for a moment then turned
and banked to return
to her small assemblage of cohorts.
“In beauty it walks behind me.”

 

The soft hills that cradled Springwater
slept under a puffy quilt
of snow-white and eider-down gray.
As the periwinkle sky changed yet again,
farms, fields, trees, houses, roads and cars came into focus.
Trees stood at attention, dark against the ancient light.
The moon was gone.
“In beauty it walks below me.”

 

All that remained to measure the movement of the earth
was the path of the sun.
Unfaltering, she seemed to rise from the depths
of someplace else,
and then
in silent meditation she traveled along a private path
across the sky.
“In beauty it walks above me.”


Once again, the sun reached the horizon and began to sink
back to that place we can never go.
Like a performer in Cirque de Soleil,
she left, swirling whimsical
bubble gum pink and baby blue
ribbons throughout the sky.
“Goodbye!” she waved. “See you again soon!!”

Her dance took away the breath of a young man
who was uncontrollably stopped in his tracks
and forced, by sheer wonder,
to give witness this beauty.
His face could not hide
the overwhelming emotion
of awe and reverence.
He sat.
All he could do was to behold,
in this one fleeting moment,
the exquisiteness
in this infinitesimal fragment of the universe.
“Beauty is on every side. As I walk, I walk in Beauty.”

 

Observations from the Jan. 16-19, 2015 retreat at Springwater Center for Meditative Inquiry, Springwater NY. Sentences in quotes are from a section of one of the many interpretations/translations of the 9 Day Navajo Night Chant. The young man is named Jonathan.

Happy New Year

Happy New Year

12302edited1

“I think over again my small adventures
My fears, those small ones that seemed so big
For all the vital things I had to get and reach
And yet there is only one great thing
The only thing
To live to see the great day that dawns
And the light that fills the world.”

– Unknown Inuit

Another year on the calendar has cycled through. Many of us make New Year’s resolutions….a commitment to starting the New Year fresh and with purpose. Sometimes we say these hopes out loud, sometimes not. Many of us joke, wondering how long before we break the promises we have made to ourselves.

I’ll make mine again…..

This year my resolution is to be present in the moment. As in the poem above, I want to be aware of and attentive to the blessing of life, the wonder of the rising sun, of light filling the world and of each and every moment. I want these things to be the stepping stones for each day. The path that guides me.

I will remind myself when I become worried and anxious, that the fears that may seem so huge and painful now, may not still feel that way after some time has passed.

I will put into perspective the things I hope to attain and achieve and put effort into remembering what is important at the end of the day.

Somewhere along the way, over the years, it’s been easy to fall into the habit of thinking right now is not enough. I’m not saying it is not important to work towards some things, but rather to put thought into what is important. Each of us measure success and happiness in different ways. On occasion, we may find ourselves wondering, after having reached the thing or event that we thought would make us happy, why that sense of happiness seemed so fleeting, so short lived. We find ourselves planning to attain some other milestone we believe will be the key to true, long lasting happiness.

At the end of the day I want to be able to look back on the day and to see that I was truthful, kind, compassionate, of service to someone, contributed something to a larger group/society. I hope to be able to say I was patient, gentle, a good listener. Add to that gratitude that my body was nourished with food and water. I will remember I have shelter and clothing to protect me. I will be thankful that my mind was engaged and active, and hopefully I learned something new. At the end of the day as I take inventory I know my family will be first on the list of people to rejoice having in my life.

Someone asked the other day if I was happy. I was a little taken aback. Not because I wasn’t happy, but because what I was experiencing was contentment, peacefulness. I was fulfilled in the heart, grateful, healthy. Maybe those are the ingredients to happiness…. What does happiness mean to you? What is “happiness”? How do you define it? Attain it? Measure it?

I’ve shed a lot of anger and resentment over the years. I just became tired of the burden of carrying them around. I owned up to my feelings, expressing them all. Then I said good bye to them and pushed them out the door and shut it. I feel lighter. I don’t miss the weight, the emotions, the hurt. It was a lot of work. I had to give up falling into the trap of dwelling in the darkness of old memories, emotions, hurt and anger. I had to work at knowing it was ok, for me, to let them go. Those things would no longer define me. They would no longer hold me captive. I still work on this…

Now I really try to be in this moment. To be attentive to what is happening. Trying not to place labels on those experiences…just letting them be. Good or bad, happy or sad, relaxed or anxious. It just is what it is. When it passes, which it will, it will be over and gone. Done. Anything that remains or lingers is of my own doing. Anticipation and effort towards something is often exhilarating and I embrace that. Memories are what they are, but for me I find they tend to morph one way or the other. They either become more significant than the real event, or more distorted and painful as my ego creates an ever expanding fictional interpretation of the story it is currently reliving. What is real at the moment is THIS moment. Not the moment before, or the moment coming next. Only this one moment.

I know this isn’t for everyone. We all have our own paths to walk on. We all struggle to make past, present and future have meaning and purpose. Some of us have hurt, pain and anger that are very strong. Others don’t even think like this.

I’m on a journey towards awareness, an adventure to being attentive to the present moment. This year my morning meditation will be based on this quote from John O’Donohue’s “Connemara Blues”:

“I would love to live like a river flows, carried by the surprise of its own unfolding.”

To awaken and unfold afresh each day and to live in moments filled with surprise and wonder sounds pretty extraordinary to me.

Peace to you all. And Happy New Year.

Before The Sun Rises

As I get older I wake up earlier. At first this caused me worry and upset. Why was I up so early? How could this be good? Waking up early began to be associated with worry and anxiety.

sunburst

(sunrise winter 2013, by me)

After I calmed down, which took years, I realized I woke up early because that was what my body wanted and needed to do naturally. It helps, I imagine, that now I am fortunate enough to be able to go to bed and fall asleep fairly easily. During the night my body gets the rest it needs to wake up on it’s own. Rested and refreshed. Whatever the hour may be.

Having gotten through that, I worked on using that dark, quiet time and allowed myself to begin to go inward consciously and take care of myself in another way. I have no name for it.

You can call it prayer, contemplation, reflection, introspection, meditation, being present or mindful, you can call it what ever you want. I call it listening to the songs the sunrise sings.

I listen to stillness and silence. I listen to the music only the sun absent darkness sings. I listen to my breath. I listen to my heart beat. I listen to the song of my husband’s breathing. Of the purring of the cat. I listen to every thing I cannot hear during the noise of the day.

“The only journey is the journey within.”

Rainer Maria Rilke

I come to terms, find peace and closure with thoughts and emotions. I listen to all the stories filled with drama that my mind creates about the past, which is gone, and the future which hasn’t’ even happened yet. And then I close the book on those stories and put them away.

And I return to experiencing the gift of the early morning. I discover things. About who I am. Who I am not. Who I want to be. Who I do not want to be. I sort through crap and gunk, and discard them. I think about choices I have and choices I can make. About being kind. Patient. About what it means to respect others. Especially people who are very different from me. I think about the choices I can make in working with young children and their families and how I might make a difference in their lives. I remember I can choose the way I respond to things, to worry, to fear, to anger and disappointment.

I think about the kind of person I want to be.

Never be afraid to sit awhile and think.

~Lorraine Hansberry, A Raisin in the Sun

As the sun rises and light slowly pushes the night away, Nature begins to sing and hum. Birds call to one another. Bees get ready to do their dance of information sharing, trees bend as strength against the wind.

Presented before me is a new day. A day with no story written. Oh sure, I have to go work, do the grocery shopping, make dinner, pay bills…..but within those things, the script can be new, different. If I make that choice.

I am such a small, small thing in this great, infinite universe. I am really not significant. All I can do is to make a choice each day about the kind of tiny speck I want to be. I want to sparkle and make someone smile. I want to open my arms to embrace and comfort. I want to champion compassion and hope. I want to foster respect and generosity of heart. I want to be the speck that nourishes and sustains.

“When your heart speaks, take good notes.” ~Judith Campbell

Do I succeed with all of this every day? No. Of course not. But every day is a new day. The sunrise reminds me of this. I don’t get so caught up with the not succeeding part. I hold on to the possibility part.

So this morning when I listened to the songs of the sunrise I thought perhaps I should explain the title of this blog and why I listen to these songs. About why I am grateful to wake up early. I had a whole other blog entry ready, but today was not the day for that one.