Silence has been trying to get my attention, beckoning me in its quietly haunting way. I have learned to obey, to sit cross-legged on my mat and watch the stillness; to notice how it is always buzzing with mystery and life. The smoke from a burning piece of palo santo dances in the atmosphere, each day performing an original piece I’ve never seen but filling the space around me with the same whisper:
breathe. breathe. breathe.
I listen. I oblige. I obey. I turn my breath into ocean waves that crash at the shore of who I am, over and over again, until my mind has nowhere else to be other than here, in the present moment. I stretch my body beneath the sunshine that streams through the window and make a simple offering to the sun, a gesture manifesting my commitment to be one with nature, to stop and notice the beauty and miracles that constantly surround me.
This time, these moments between early mornings and I, give meaning to my life. The smoke from a burning piece of palo santo dances wildly and I sit quietly, loving what is leaving me and leaving what is trying to distract me and make the world around me ordinary instead of utterly and completely magical.
My life is a sacred event and my mornings are no different.
For a year now silence has called out to me and I have learned to answer
Here I Am.