TheBanyanTree: Early Morning Thoughts

[Gail Richards]

Beautiful imagery, Russ!

-----Original Message----- 
From: Russ Doden
Sent: Wednesday, August 22, 2012 6:54 AM
To: The Banyan Tree
Subject: TheBanyanTree: Early Morning Thoughts

Early Morning Thoughts



I woke up this morning, early.  I have no reason to wake up early, no
schedule to keep, no time clock to punch, I’m what some call retired.  To
me I just have a new job – a job of my own choice – a job I enjoy.  My job
is being aware, and helping others find their own awareness.

The sun wasn’t even bringing the morning glow to the horizon yet.  As I lay
there, listening to the sounds coming in through the open window, I think
how fortunate I am.  After a bit I got up, and after getting dressed, I
went to the back patio and just stood there, listening.  Listening to the
sounds of the city waking up.  It never sleeps, the city, it is always
awake, but the sounds are muted.  Fewer tires are screeching, few sirens
are saying “get out of my way”, fewer “city sounds” composed of traffic,
business, and human activity.

Overlain on the comparatively distant sounds of the city were the sounds of
the neighborhood.  Crickets are chirping; a few birds calling as they greet
the day, or say farewell to the night; a dog not to far away telling its
owner it wants to be let back in after doing its business; every once in a
while a car goes down the street.

Slowly the horizon began to get bright, with a hint of color being infused
into the dark.  The light grows so fast in the morning, going from dark to
well lit so quickly.  In the city though, the dark that is never dark,
street lights make sure of that, and that is a good thing I guess, but . .
. I find I miss the darkness that being away from a city brings.  In the
city, you can’t really see the stars, you can’t really hear life.  The
bigger the city, the less one gets to hear, see, smell, even taste and
touch.  It is all hidden, buried under layers of civilization.  I remember
being under desert skies, miles from any city, and even then there was a
glow on the horizon.  But then I could see stars.  Not the few that one
sees on a clear night in town, but . . . billions and billions of stars;
they looked so close that I felt I could reach out and run my hands over
them.



As I stand on the back patio, I step onto the grass.  I feel the cool damp
grass on my bare feet.  It is August, we had a brutal hot July, and are in
a drought, but the grass is wet.  It feels more like mid September, and I
wonder why the seasons are getting so mixed up.  What is perturbing the
engine that regulates the weather.  I wonder how many adults really take
time to feel much of anything anymore.  I know some do, you can see it in
their faces, hear it in their voices.  Standing there, I listen – an
airplane takes off from the local airport, and adds its sounds to the
waking city, then those sounds are gone.  The sounds of waking return to
prominence again.  Traffic in the distance starts to build, but it is still
not so loud that I can’t hear my washing machine quietly doing what it is
supposed to do as I launder a load of clothes.

Standing there I “reach out” and “feel” the city waking up.  What I “sense”
is a mixture of feelings being transmitted from the swarming broadcasters
we call humanity.  I feel that there is little joy in many people – it is
just another day with a job to go to, that they don’t really look forward
to; it is another morning of sadness for some; I hear a persons voice in
the distance – and hear anger in that voice so early in the morning.  All
is not bleak though; there is joy to be felt if one is quiet.  School kids
excited to be going back to school; lovers awakening in each others arms,
sharing the simple joy of being with the person they love; one person
standing on the grass in the back yard – me, adding my song of joy to the
morning.

I realize that I feel many things.  I feel contentment; this is a
relatively new feeling after being lost in the darkness of my petty human
worries for so long.  I feel joy for the sheer wonder of being able to
appreciate the bounty that life really is all about.  I feel a humble sense
of gratitude for another day, a day to share with others, a day to learn
and grow, a day to appreciate, a day to experience what life is really all
about compared to what we have been told all of our lives.

The growing dawn starts to bring more color and definition to everything. 
To
mis-quote Shakespeare, or turn his words around, red is no longer gray, nor
yellow white, but I do continue to wonder which is right and which is the
illusion.  The morning brings a warm look to everything.  Not the harsh
glare of mid day, but a reddish hue, a rose tint that we so often miss as
we scurry about preparing for the day.  As the sun breaks the horizon, I
see a red ball shining through the trees.  Soon the day will be fully
bloomed, the quiet of the dawn will give way to the rush of activity that
is considered normal, but I will treasure the quiet that I find in the
early morning hours.
Russ

-- 
Enjoy Life By Living In Joy

Well Being Consultant
www.rldwbc.com