I greeted the day at 5:00 AM, on the westcoast. Not a sound. I check my phone and notice it’s no longer charging. Across the room I see no light in the bathroom. Was it on an automatic timer? I am confused. As I stumble across the room for a light switch, I realize nothing is working. There is no power. How could this possibly be since there is no wind or storm? Nothing even brewing.
How can I now do the work I had planned to do? Thoughts race around.
In the meantime my feet wander towards the door and I step out onto the deck, to be greeted by the exquisite beauty of pre-dawn light, across Georgia strait. If that weren’t enough I have the coastal mountains for a backdrop. What could I do now except sit down and bask in the emerging show from Nature’s theatre.
For two hours and a bit I watched, with the stillness broken only by the unique cry of the eagles and the flutter of hummingbird wings. No hum from the fridge through the screen door. No ding on my phone. All was still.
The Light Changes
As the light changed I noticed the glow on the trees and even caught a glimpse of the parade of raccoons coming up from the beach. As I strolled around the property I was greeted with golden glows falling on a pot of hydrangeas, or a barely noticed corner of the garden. I nodded at the stone Buddhas and waved at the prayer flags waving at me, up beside the Labyrinth.
Back to the front deck to watch the sun come up and paint a path of golden sunlight across the water.
Nothing got done that I had planned. Yet the unplanned stillness and beauty of this morning enfolded me like a cape of the smoothest silk. An unexpected gift of the most priceless kind. Time. Beauty. Nature.
Why does it require a power outage for me to enjoy this gift? Must every hour be filled with what needs doing? Or can I/we simply take the time to bask in the summer’s morning light and be still for awhile.
How It Might Continue by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
Wherever we go, the chance for joy,
whole orchards of amazement—
one more reason to always travel
with our pockets full of exclamation marks,
so we might scatter them for others
like apple seeds.
Some will dry out, some will blow away,
but some will take root
and grow exuberant groves
filled with long thin fruits
that resemble one hand clapping—
so much enthusiasm as they flutter back and forth
that although nothing’s heard
and though nothing’s really changed,
people everywhere for years to come
will swear that the world
is ripe with applause, will fill
their own pockets with new seeds to scatter.
From Naked for Tea (Able Muse Press, 2018) as read on Gratefulness.org
As we come closer and closer to the end of August I hope you too have a few mornings of stillness and beauty. Consider making time for timelessness. See what happens. I will purposefully try it again tomorrow.
Note 1:) I hope you revel in these last days of August and get to be outdoors with nature’s healer. This afternoon I carried on and went for a forest walk through a trail of 150 year old cedars.
Note 2:) You may be interested in a first or second listen to Pico Iyer’s Ted Talk, on The Art of Stillness.
Note 3:) The photos are from beautiful Gabriola Island, BC.
Note 4:) Thank you for showing up once again to read my blog post. It is always an honour and a joy for me. Warmest wishes and see you next week, Trudy