I would never, ever voluntarily get up to see the dawn. I'm a nightowl in every fibre of my body but when I'm forced to crawl from my bed with the babe I'm always swept away by the magic of the sky waking itself up. Waking from the groping dark to shape, dimension, space and light.
I'm seeing a western style of mindfulness seep into all kinds of activities these days. Stopping, taking time to breath is mainstream. Being in the moment is what we're all trying to work towards. But remembering (stuff from my head!) is also helping me this week.
Seven years ago I set out on a round the world trip. I travelled for 5 months and slowly unravelled to an earlier, deeper, rawer, more peaceful version of myself. The first step on that journey was to see that my emotions aren't real. I saw them racing across my mind like a timelapse sky. Storms building, releasing, blowing over. I saw the source of each eddy and swirl. Mostly it was related to eating chocolate the day before. Chocolate bar = wake up with darkness enveloping my mind. Who knew?
Last week on a day when the sky was stormy grey and blank I was gripped by negativity. Bad thoughts spinning under their own steam. Blame. Impatience. Feeling hard done by! I was being buffetted and so were those around me. And then...I remembered. I was able to connect to the memory of a time when I saw these storms for what they are. Pure energy, rising, being channelled, with a life of their own and yet no substance.
And the space around them opened. Just a wink. Hardly a wink. And I could see none of it was real. And they evaporated right there, like wisps of cirrus cleared after the storm. Memory gave me confidence to know that I once lived knowing this. Feeling sorry for yourself is the worst waste of energy, no matter what's going on.
The weather was following my thoughts, clearing. Breathing again. And then...a rainbow....
Can you remember the world through your three year old eyes? Before conditioning forced you to forget your natural happiness. My 3 year old discovered my old camera yesterday and instead of warning her not to break it, I let her use it and figure it out by herself. She started photographing her world with surprising passion. I've sent her off today to record her day. What will life look like from two feet off the ground? Truthful? Full of important details like bubblebath? focussed on colour? friends? or just pointed wildly at it all? I can't wait to find out.
Knitting has a trajectory, and sooner or later we are ready for the challenge of a lace shawl. I must have knitted this whole thing twice as I unpicked my mistakes. The end result nourishes me with it's weighty, rippling drape that slithers out of your hands. It has its own soul and it is immensely satisfying. I've already started my next one...