Hey there, 6am
Your atmospheric yawn,
changing the backdrop of cobalt blues
to oranges, reds, and flaming yellows as our glorious sun wakes.
Oh, auspicious time
Celestial by nature
Your possibilities are endless
Miracles of the street-level kind
Oh, 6am masters,
I welcome you.
Here is the gift of another day
An invitation to witness the subtle, the marvelous
Oh, vulnerable eyes, stay awake!
Glorious mind, don’t lose sight.
So precautious in these challenging times
Mind, you are Distraction’s favorite feast;
Like a royal elephant,
that loses itself at the sight of a rodent,
don’t be swayed, old friend,
remember your strength.
The jungle is thick and relentless
Remember this here, the sweetness of 6am.
I hold a cup of black tea in a Starbucks vintage mug; the tea is not their’s and tastes way better. There’s a chip on the cup. I should dispose of it but I chose not to.
I’m feeling a joyful glee in my heart cuz my partner returns home tomorrow. How four weeks has fast forward and slowed down all at once. I recall his warm soft lips and how they just fit mine.
I sit still as the sun beams down on my skin. It’s warm with a cool breeze reminding us winter is around the corner. The critical mind tells me to pull away (wrinkles, remember), but I don’t. Fly kisses from the sun reach the smile spreading across my cheeks.
I’m wondering if this is what they mean by “bliss”. This moment. On my own.
That hop-skip-and-a-jump feeling, that “skip to my lou my darling” pep to the step.
I try not to choke it; surrendering is a joy ride.
Fly kisses to the sun and back.
Heavy foot, right left.
Trying to shrug it off.
Get over it, just do it.
Flashes of humiliation.
Two sides, one coin.
No one is right.
Yet it feels so real.
Get out there, get out of your head.
Do it over and over.
Fail and fail better.
I am visited by doubt.
I am visited by weight.
I am visited by the Ghost of Comparison, who rears its lion head.
Continue reading “slow motion”
Wise words from the Buddhist master, Thích Nhất Hạnh:
On morning vows
“Waking up this morning, I smile. Twenty-four brand new hours are before me. I vow to live fully in each moment and to look at all beings with eyes of compassion.”
Wake up, piss, oil pull.
Slip into slippers, stretch, go for the tea.
Sun shines through window; hopefully you take a moment to acknowledge it.
I have to call the gas company.
I haven’t answered her email.
The place could use a vacuum.
We’re out of honey.
Finish oil pulling, brush teeth, look into the mirror.
Hopefully, you see yourself.
Besides the mop hair, crow’s feet and mascara smudges.
I mean, truly see yourself.
Remember why today is a gift, not just another day.
Hopefully you smile.
Continue reading “hopeful(ly)”
I think steaming chicken soup.
I think rich hot chocolate at the ready.
I think closing my eyes and imagining England with its vacant castles, cobblestone streets and the sound of foghorns in the distance.
I think quiet, slow walks, hand in hand, inhaling romance.
I think cuddling up before an awesome movie; puffy pillows and homemade popcorn.
The blanket of fog that wraps the city this night is breathtaking.
It stops me in my tracks and reminds me how fuckin’ gorgeous Nature truly is.
It welcomes me into hibernation, soothes my worried mind and gently whispers to my forlorn heart, “slow down.”
“The fog unrolls itself to be a player rug to the mountains.”
– Jonathan-Lockwood Huie