Aistear

"Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home." Basho

(The Monk By The Sea by Caspar David Friedrich)

I awaken in the cold and silence of early morning.

Not turning any lights on, I’m greeted by my cat. Mijo gets my full attention as I stroke his fur and speak softly and lovingly to him.

Outside the ground, the trees and the plants are covered in snow and ice. The daffodils, already in bloom, bend their golden heads down, as if in prayer.

I prepare my coffee in the quiet and gaze out the kitchen window at it all. As the coffee’s brewing, I feed the cat.

Time seems to slow down when I arise before everyone else and there is nowhere I have to be. Instead, I can just be: be still, be silent, be present, be grateful for this time. Everything is calm and reflective.

With my mug of coffee in hand, I go to the living room, light a single candle, and get under a blanket on the sofa.

The heightening silence is broken only by the soft sounds of the heat coming on.

In the stillness, I think how the Earth is spinning over a thousand miles an hour. How incredible that we cannot even sense this motion. All the while we are in this great, grand universe.

I do not turn on a light or the TV or my phone. No, I do not welcome in the excess and clutter of culture; the ceaseless sounds and noise and information bombarding my stilled spirit, Though I’m surrounded by books, I open none. Words are not welcome for the time being. I root myself in silence before the world intrudes itself with its ever unfolding unrest.

I close my eyes and envision stars and galaxies and solar systems. Just the incomprehensibility of it all fills me with a sense of awe. The great mystery all about and within us. We who only see through a glass darkly.