Track the Hours of Sunlight

Tracking the hours of sunlight: 

since starting my early morning walks several months ago I've been tracking the hours of sunlight, noting how the day had lengthened by degrees, barely perceived at first, just a moment of light extended towards both dawn and dusk. Now approaching mid July and I see just a bit of those sunlit hours diminished, barely noticeable through the joy of summer, days still so long and active, heat intense, and it seems like the perfect length of sunlight for this beautiful time of year. 

and it is...

even as the days grow shorter in the light they offer. 

most of us sleep past sunrise, or up soon after and we miss those hours right before dawn. This is where a more rapid change of sunlight happens, noticeable in the days in the immediate following solstice, subtle, and yet there's already a feel of changing seasons. Tracking the hours of sunlight and I'm out the door for my walk just a moment later than the day before, no more than a pause, but each day now that pause grows a little longer, enough to be measured, minutes of light diminished in the season. 

my research tells me that between the solstice and end of June we'll lose approximately 3 minutes and 27 seconds of sunlight. And of course more so daily, mid July and its noticeable even slightly in the evening, no longer just by my own tracking of the morning lights. Oddly, experiencing the seasons change through sunlight, and I'm less concerned by the approach of winter, still not my favored time, yet I find myself cherishing light in a way that feels sacred, attuned to its attributes, sensing its retreat but not feeling it as a loss. I am part of this changing season, intimately so, a creature made of light, and any shadow cast is not my ultimate reality, but simply a wave of particles showing in a play of form, forever shifting in appearance. 

so most truly, I'm tracking my own existence, only briefly measured as a sunlit moment, with my reality more deeply shown as the capacity for both sun and the furthest reach of its light. Particles and wave, a sutra of sunlight and my own revelation. 

as seen through changing seasons. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Of Sunrise Walks

Of Sunrise walks: 

several months ago, right at that edge of early spring and last reach of winter's still frigid mornings - I began a ritual of sunrise walks, getting first light to touch my eyes and cause the hormonal response of circulating cortisol, epinephrine, and dopamine, a chain reaction to produce greater energy in the morning and then a slow shift to the production of serotonin and melatonin as the day progresses, the circadian rhythm in natural order of early waking, being energetic through the day, and then on to a long, restorative slumber lasting throughout the night.  And it works, I'm alert, creative and productive through the day and by night fall I find that I am ready for bed with less need for a long unwind before sleep arrives. 

of sunrise walks...

and the magic of first light.

 my life is restored to its natural order. 

more so, I find myself spiritually renewed each morning, immersed in early light and nature,  my body committed to motion by brisk pace, and I feel like I belong to this part of the day, as fully as every creature spotted along the way. I am not a mere observer here, but more truly a participant, stalking the lengthening sunlight, basking in all that's touched within its reach.

through these early morning walks...I am most at home.

restored. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Purring Meditation

Purring meditation: 

of my two cats, my littlest one is the most consistent yogi, joining me on the mat most mornings and afternoon sessions, demonstrating near perfect form in every pose she chooses to do along side of me. She also spends considerable time in meditation, absorbed in the purring mantra of her breath, as awakened as any yogi ever - and without any struggle to  reach this realization. My larger cat is perhaps drawn more to Bhakti yoga, devoted to me most of the day, curled against my side in her own purring meditation. It seems we all have our own means of self -realization, one particular practice that will best suits our present need and understanding. 

or the most natural method as shown by both my cats.

it's the art of simply being. 

a purring meditation. 

Misty, my visiting dog, is a natural bodhisattva, easily enlightened and here only to show and teach compassion to others along the way. I commented to my ex-wife just yesterday that Misty looks exactly as she is, a dog filled with happiness, joy, and unconditional love, a welcoming presence to every other dog and person to cross her path while walking and everyone seems drawn to her. What Misty teaches is the immediacy of forgiveness, that any lapse of attention or judgement on my part is easily forgiven in the very same instant that it occurs, a smile and wag of tail showing me that all is well. 

clearly her path is one of love. 

so I'm surrounded by yogis, blessed with teachers that show me different ways to be enlightened. My own path is shown in their devotion, that I am worthy of love by virtue of my presence, and that my actions of caring for others, shown through dog treats, and joining cats in purring meditation - it's all part of my natural expression, easily revealed, no different than a purr or wag of tail. 

not in essence at least.

it's all love. 

~

Peace, Eric 

 

These Holy Hours

I love my morning routine, writing about it often, noting the joy that it me brings me along with the many benefits I believe it offers. It's a growing thing, expansive, maneuvering quietly through these holy hours well before the first light of dawn. My sacrifice is made in going to bed quite early, when most of the world is still active, busy - yet I don't regret it all, being well worth the time I get to spend in silence. 

And that's really the important point for me here, it's that the things I do, as healthy and helpful as they are, each of them is performed as a ritual, the performance itself taking precedence over benefits. Everything is done for the sake of an earliest joy, found only through actions performed in the deep silence offered through these holy hours.

my routine is quite specific to me, meeting health needs and other concerns that I wish to be mindful of in this stage of my life. But I can easily say, truly so, that everything has spiritual value, equal to my meditation time and that, indeed, to all flows from that silent point of sitting. Waking early, there's no rush now, and it seems that the morning belongs completely to me, no one else being yet ready to start their day and make the sacrifice of an earlier time in bed. Truthfully though, I would happily trade an hour or so of sleep for the magic that I have right now.

every sound is hushed, almost tentative in their arrival, with only a few sounds easing through, briefly so, softly, and then instantly returning to the silence of their hold. That's the magic, not the absence of morning noise, nor the peace found through my slower pace - but that everything is held by the hush of these holy hours, eager to return, and that for the rest of the day, if I listen, even if only giving the briefest pause, once more hearing these the silence of these holy hours...

and softly then, 

I return to them as well. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Zen Lessons From a Red Winged Blackbird

Zen lessons from a Red winged blackbird; 

yesterday morning, sunrise walk and my usual routine of receiving earliest light and the many benefits that it offers, physical, emotional, and spiritual. This is one of my favorite parts of the day, regardless of weather, or time of the year, 30 minutes of walking and an entire world opens up to me, life presents itself through so many beautiful and extraordinary ways right outside my door. On this particular morning, a Red winged blackbird disputed his territory with me, letting me know in no uncertain terms that I should hurry on my way and stay clear of that section of the path. After swooping down and providing a light knock against my head, there was little need to argue the point. 

the Red winged blackbird was concerned about his nest. 

and I was only passing through. 

happy to concede that section of the path to him.

it's amazing that such a small, beautiful bird would be so fearless, warning me to stay clear and giving no regard to the difference of our size. Several days ago I watched one harass a deer that was feeding too close to his nest and chase her across a field and into the nearby woods. The bird had a clear aerial advantage, mobile in flight, and the deer never stood a chance in her confusion. To flee was simple the only option. I've also seen hawks chased away, fierce birds themselves and yet they chose the best option of leaving this territory to the blackbird. 

after my encounter yesterday morning, I could hardly blame the hawk. 

Red winged blackbirds are fierce too in their protection. 

my thought here is that no attack is personal, it's simply nature in protection of its home, or showing aggression against a perceived threat. There was a message for me, a clear sign for me to be mindful, attentive and not completely lost within my thoughts. The signs were present, with the blackbird offering me early warning of his call and circled flight above his home. It's nesting time, mid summer, and I know that they're protective of they're mate and just laid eggs this time of year. But my attention was elsewhere at the time and I can't even remember what thoughts I might have had that seemed so important at the time, only that I wasn't mindful to the warnings that were kindly provided, and that simply being present would have saved me from attack. 

clearly I was in the presence of a master.

of the highest order, really.

 receiving zen lessons from a Red winged blackbird

and I am grateful for the lesson.

~

Peace, Eric 

Slugs

Slugs; 

for the past several days, heading out on my sunrise walk, and I've first been greeted by slugs, or perhaps a single slug that lives in my yard. I have no idea of knowing, but it wouldn't surprise me as slugs can live for two years once mature, if able to avoid their natural predators. That would seem no easy task judging by appearance, slow moving, being without a shell, and with no obvious forms of defense or self protection. Yet nature is ever clever in its design, and slugs are able to harden their bodies, contracting into a ball and along with the mucus they produce, making them harder to grasp. Still they are a vital food source for many birds and animals, an important aspect of life, belonging fully within a seamless ecological structure. 

they're also often viewed as pest, destructive to gardens, and generally seen as gross, slimy, not beautiful or useful at all. I would agree on the slimy part, maybe even gross if forced to add a personal label to my description, or at least until not too long ago. Lately, for several years now, and I seem to be losing my sense of bias towards any creature, returning to my childhood sensitivity and innocence where everything belonged within a more magical world. 

every garden and yard contained an infinite mystery to be explored. 

I delight in seeing my visitors each morning, pausing to appreciate their awesome design, the beauty of their form and function. They've made it through the night, vulnerable, surviving to the moment that they greet me, and I wish them well on their continued journey, their dharma, whatever that might be. I am not familiar with the world of slugs, little knowledge of their behavior beyond what I've read in my recent and growing curiosity, sparked by their morning appearance at my door. But I know that everything has a dharma of their own, never small, as life is an endless circle of belonging, vast, yet infinitely connected by design. My pause and appreciation to their visit links me to them now, made more intimate by my observation and the short but heartfelt prayer I offer in greeting...

thank you, thank you, thank you.

for this moment of together. 

everything belongs. 

~ 

Peace, Eric 

Another Form of Magic

Another form of magic: 

as a child I believed completely in the power of prayer, attending a Catholic school and faith in prayer was taught equally with math and English, it was expected that our prayers would be answered - as long as they were directed rightly. I tried my best. It wasn't much later, still before high school, that my interest drifted to magic, what's considered real magic, mystery schools,  rituals of nature, and the power of the mind to attract our strongest desires. Oddly, this never conflicted with my Catholic upbringing at the time, even then it seemed that I was dealing with the same source no matter the language of my faith. Prayer was simply another form of magic. 

that's what really drew me to yoga and meditation, another fascination that started very young and my practice continues to this day, deepening through the decades in it's value and my commitment. Patanjali, in his Yoga Sutra's claimed we could gain the powers of an advanced yogi through our practice, another form of magic, and one that greatly appealed to me. This was the Law of Least Effort, planting a seed, subtle energy, initially watered by intent and then simply letting go. Through this the yogi allows the universe to handle all the details, our role now is to be watchful for signs, open to the synchronicities, meaningful coincidences that would lead towards success, the fulfillment of our desires. 

of course the problem here is that if our desires aren't met, our practice is as fault, or perhaps we need another form of magic to reach our ultimate success. And there's always another form of magic, one more book with a promise of fulfillment, a new teacher offering a secret means for attaining our dreams and reaching our goals. Finally. The truth is, without realizing it, we're invested in our failure, the real goal is in the seeking and we refuse to let it go, that's our fulfillment...

being a perpetual seeker.

we're lost in maze of mind and magic.

never even realizing that we're lost. 

or maybe suspecting so, having a hint that something isn't working in the way that's been promised. Yet through the years of never quiet reaching the realization of my dreams, I find that I still believe in magic, that Patanjali was offering something deeply magical after all - yoga, meditation, each breath taken, this is my fulfillment, the original seed planted, being at peace and perfectly content right now. There is magic in this moment, pure, an entire universe open to my expansion. This was the seed placed in the fertile field of my imagination so many years ago, and to my surprise, I now realize that it was immediately fulfilled in the very instant it was planted - my only true wish, my heartfelt desire, was the happiness found in the depth of every moment, not the absence of sorrow, nor the release of any suffering, but the magic of simply being exactly as I am. 

it's another form of magic...

sure in its fulfillment. 

~

Peace, Eric