Still dark, today’s faint pink winks at the inky blue mountains as I fumble to my cushion again. Trying to be quiet for James who’s still asleep, I kneel to light a stick of incense, quietly as I can.
Dawning, by Laura Gunn
I hold the incense up near my forehead like my teachers do, silently taking refuge, place it in the holder and stand. Bowing to my cushion, then to James (now seated upright in the bed, bless him), I turn to take my seat.
Clumsily arranging my body with some semblance of dignity, next inhale lifts my sides, exhale lands me. Allowing my breath to reach way down deep into my belly, thoughts arise and dissolve—the usual—future fears, lack of sufficiency. Schedule for today, the list of what’s needed. Papers needing to be written. I forgot the laundry overnight again, dang. The daughter of the lady I visited in hospice this past week.
Inviting my darting attention to rest, noticing each fleeting thought-form and concept, allowing my mind to be swept by the next breath. Each sitting is the only sitting, I have to remember this. Here is where I actually belong to myself.
This small window of the morning is where I can practice mobilizing gratitude, openness, love in the face of our human fallibility and dread, inheritances from every corner of time and space. I let the breath sweep in and clear the field again.
A few pieces in Softening Time aim to capture the essence of morning sits; I’ve selected two for you this week. But first, a tiny practice.
sitting
Sun rising, heart presence
mercifully strips away certainties
I sit to stay alert to the mystery
Sometimes my own presence is the one I really needed
p. 67
practice
sun rising in my bones
calling me home
quiet refuge, body of
learning and listening
where unmitigated focus
seduces then silences me,
evolving patterns quietly.
I can see no other way
p. 1
How is your practice going? If you have anything to teach from your experience, I’m all ears.
And have I told you lately how much I appreciate your time with me here. I do.
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beautiful, Ansui.
steady and blooming here.
envelope arrived.
merci, Kin.🌱
I love you.