Morning light2  Sunrise & sunset may seem similar as mirrors. We rarely experience them that way.

   Dawn offers a softer, often pale-skinned light at birth.

   Emily Dickinson wrote (in a poem Liz Wessel quoted this weekend) that sun unfolds its beauty "a ribbon at a time."

   As a congenital "night person" (Yes. That is in our DNA) I have seen day-old sun die far more than I have seen her baby sister rise & stretch her limbs  into the day. 

   Morning light hands us a gift. Tired caregivers may find this present hard to accept. 

   Does unwrapping morning's gift "a ribbon at a time" take too long? Only if we have decided that rushing is more important than living.

    -Erie Chapman

2 responses to “Days 8-12 Morning Light”

  1. ~liz Wessel Avatar

    I appreciate your question for inquiry, Erie and well as the response you offer… personally I find my self rushing… yet it is the pausing and relationship with others that I find my center again.
    I think it is helpful to begin the day in contemplative prayer, not asking but instead listening and even then I find my mind rushing and my thoughts darting about. Yet even so, I do notice that the quality of my day is enhanced if I have taken this precious little time in the morning to BE versus DO.
    Thank you for this lovely morning gift the the gentle hue that holds the promise of a new day.

    Like

  2. Terry Chapman Avatar
    Terry Chapman

    Another poignant thought, Cousin! I am by nature a morning person, which fits quite nicely as my wife is a night person. I have several hours each morning for quiet yoga work; listening to classical pieces; or working on various computer projects, before she rises. The quiet hours, when all my senses are freshly unfolding, is precious to me and my creativity peaks by about noon or so.
    Then I can revive it only by being present with others: family and friends, or by visiting a museum or browsing a mall, while walking for exercise as well. By honoring my basic instincts, I also tend to hibernate a bit in winter and come out by late spring, almost sleepy from my recent quietude, inwardly directed activities–ready to take on the world or so it seems every Spring!

    Like

Leave a reply to Terry Chapman Cancel reply