The Beauty of Mornings

the clock of the seasons ticks

I’ve always enjoyed rising early. There’s nothing quite like the quiet of the morning.

We think we need the news but all we really need is to recognize how each day is a chance of being renewed. What matters is what’s going on in the North-East-West-South of our own house.

Living in the country has brought me new and fresh challenges. It’s taught me things about myself I couldn’t have discovered any other way. It’s reminded me of little joys from my upbringing in a small rural town that I had forgotten. It’s invited me to witness the beauty of both mourning’s and morning.

The time I arise changes as I follow the sunrise clock now. I sleep more in the winter and less in the long days of summer. I notice how one minute turns into one hour as the time shifts and these tiny increments of change build anticipation for the rise of the sun each day.

The first thing I do when I get up is feed all of my animals. I get my dirty work boots on and I look like a crazy haired mis-matched mad woman. It doesn’t matter if lightning storms or suffocating heat waits outside the door, I must still go.

The water must be changed, the food brought out, the poop cleaned, the doors unlocked. The routine brings both surprise and comfort.

My outdoor dog and cat follow me around craving cool crisp water out of the faucet or searching for fresh rainwater on a cold surface. I watch what they prefer to drink, the intuitive drive towards water that’s alive, structured, life-giving.

My ducks and chickens come running. The roosters are crowing in synchronicities, melodies blend from individual songs. The birds flitter by and chime in. The ducks splash in the kiddie pool and stretch their wings.

I stop and take off my shoes, as when I finish chores the sun is starting to rise. Toes sinking into the earth, I watch the sun disc rise beaming a spectrum of colors into my eyes. I see the aura over the trees, the blending between sky and earth, I feel joy and peace.

Some days I don’t want to get up, but all days I’m glad I did.

Some days I wonder what the heck I’m doing, but I’m grateful to give.

Some days I imagine how I could ever go back to the city, but I’m thankful for the contrast given.

Today, my dog and I joined forces. Instantly we went into team mode. She barked and I clanked loud pieces of metal as we chased a clan of coyotes away. My blood was pumping, I spread my arms and made myself seem bigger while hollering and chasing them off, a glorious site as I laugh at myself. This is not an uncommon scenario around here. Not today coyotes, not today.

I think about how people view country folk as less “cultured” and while traveling internationally and gaining cultural experiences can broaden perspectives, there is also purity of heart and acceptance for the trials of life, community, in places where there is no longing for going beyond what someone knows as home…and I find myself wanting to go nowhere right now. The appeal of not planning another trip or activity beyond my own back yard is a new season of life I’m embracing.

The more I stay still, the more I recognize nuance, subtleties in my surroundings. The closer the birds come to me…the wilder the moon…the brighter the stars….I feel accepted by the trees that once held doubt about me….the nature initiation required commitment, devotion, and endurance like any relationship.

I’m only getting started…every day there is more to learn.
Every day I learn from a bird, a grasshopper, a crow.
Every day I witness a sight to behold, like an eagle flying overhead, a red-tailed hawk outside the window…things never to be seen in the city lights nor sitting behind screens for too long.

Our connection with our inner self is strengthened when we connect with natural intelligence.

I hear a cow moo as I write this, sometimes I hear one in agony from afar, each animal has its own song, sounds of communicating without words. So, too, do humans. Our individual expression is carried in our energy, in the masterpiece that is painted by the totality of a lifetime…daily choices, like the changing of the clock, open us up as the days lengthen, soften into contemplation as they shorten…the sun teaches us how to be, the moon teaches us how to see.

No amount of success in business or worldly matters can replace the experiences taught by nature.

No amount of money can buy the masterpiece of witnessing a glorious sunset or sweetness of holding a tiny rabbit.

No amount of achievement can replace the joy of giving joy, of witnessing another’s life changed by participating in the cycle of life.

I remember as a child making clover necklaces and dancing barefoot in the mid-day sun, no fear, no worries.

We think, as adults, those child-like days are done and cling to the woes of the world that kidnap our peace and swipe our memories…that clock us in to unnatural rhythms and train us to ask permission…but the seasons of life ask us to dare to live differently…to love differently…to grab moments and breathe life into them…to remember the sacredness of being alive.

And being alive will bring mourning….and grief that feels like drowning…but the sun will rise, your dog will lick your face, the birds will sing, the joy is still there inside the wailing…we just have to keep walking…down the narrow road…the one that squeezes us from stone into a shining diamond…the one that makes our heart feel it may burst out of our chest…the simplicity of seeing the beauty that already is…this is where our best self is met…already there, awaiting observation.

I know endings will come, life will change, but today I reflect on where I’m at and give thanks for the beauty all around. The chop-wood-carry-water phases of life are so much better than burning the midnight oil. It’s not always easy to choose what our soul craves, but it’s better than the alternative.

What a glorious morning today brought forth…oh wonderful morn.

With love,

Angela