Some days dawn like a Mary Oliver poem – all hope and promise and beautiful heartache…
I don’t usually get to embrace the morning. It passes in a rush of waking and showering and doing my best impression of a man who can dress himself for work. As it likely it for many others, my mornings are on auto-pilot, and the older I get the more mundane and drudge-like they sometimes feel. Every once in a while a blip will occur, some minor snag that reminds me I’m still imperfectly human no matter how many times I’ve done this: a squirt of lotion instead of toothpaste on the toothbrush that is just about to go in my mouth, a drawstring that gets right in the way of the stream of urine, or putting one contact lens into the eye that already had one in already. Fun, fun, fun.
Once upon a time I practiced meditative mornings over the weekends – when sun was out, either reflecting brilliantly on the snow, or mingling softly among the blades of grass – and there was no music, no television, and no washer/dryer duet. Silence and stillness. It grounds the heart, setting a bedrock of peace for the day no matter where it might take us. I miss those meditative mornings. Perhaps I’ll set my alarm a bit earlier so I have time to start the day in peace. It may make a difference.
Meditation need not be anything complicated or lengthy. Actually, it’s better in my case if it’s neither, and simplicity is integral to the experience. Even just five to ten minutes of sitting in uninterrupted silence each day can work wonders. If you can stretch it to fifteen, that’s even better, but something is better than nothing. I find it takes a few minutes to clear my brain of worries and plans and concerns and daily stuff. That’s why it’s sometimes easier to do it first thing in the morning.It’s quieter then, too.
So here’s to those contemplative mornings. May they greet the day in peace, and carry the mindset through the rest of the hours.
