When we do what we love, again and again, our life comes to hold the fragrance of that thing.
Wayne Muller
I wake in the dark of morning
and wherever in the world I am -
I walk outdoors.
Morning calls.
I feel the breath of it
on my skin,
hear its music,
the sound of waking birds,
filling my ears.
My mind is quiet.
Worry has not woken.
Only wonder walks with me,
as I watch the moon
departing,
and the first light of dawn
breaking over the fields;
into the trees.
No matter what the day
before has brought me -
No matter what dreams
haunted my sleep -
I wake in the dark of morning
and wherever in the world I am
I walk outdoors.
Morning calls.
Sunrise through barbed wire and a thorny vine
I hear the sound of birds singing above me
Texas sun blazing through the bare oak branches
A starling sings from the top of the utility pole, silhouetted against the gradually lightening sky.
Every morning it’s a little different - a haze on the horizon softens the edges of light
A big buck staring across the field toward the rising sun
Above the trees in the big Texas sky
The sacred is not in heaven or far away. It is all around us, and small human rituals can connect us to its presence. And of course the greatest challenge (and gift) is to see the sacred in each other.
Alma Luz Villanueva
I had to make a road trip to Texas this week - it was quickly thrown together, and it could have felt rushed and stressful, except for my daily pre-dawn walk outdoors. There is always this quiet time before the sun rises, when I can be outside and walk in peace, before worries or plans begin to fill my mind. I go out in cold, in rain, in snow, in wind, in heat -whatever the weather. It is harder to do somedays than others, but I never regret doing it. It is a ritual that comforts me by making every place I go feel familiar. Wherever there is a morning, I am home.
Hope your week was beautiful too. See you next week.
The waning moon in the early morning hours, just before sunrise in Texas