It’s in the half-light of dawn. It’s in the few precious moments between darkness and illumination of the rising sun. It’s in the blurred vision that occurs from freshly opened eyes each new morning, before focus becomes shape and known objects. It’s in this space that I know Spirit.
I wake each morning to what some would consider yet another chance. A new day to follow the processes of life through the obstacles and objectives of the repetitious cycle that occurs from birth until death; the pattern of mindlessly following the path we’ve chosen in carrying out our existence.
I, too easily, fall into that same thoughtless and automatic pattern of carrying out deeds of the day just to make it through, surviving another rotation of the earth. Though, I’ve realized that’s not good enough anymore. That’s not satisfying for me. I require more, I demand more. I choose life, creatively, consciously.
Each morning I roll (quite literally) out of bed, usually feeling some sort of uncertainty and guilt from the work I’ve done the day before. I stumble around the house until I find my lighter and pack of cigarettes and then make my way to the porch where I check out for a bit longer, wishing myself back to bed, mostly unwilling to face another day of fear, of failure, of shame. There is not much that is consciously happening during this time, aside from trying to shake the old me of yesterday that I’d really like to forget. I try avoiding the morning’s coming-to for as long as I can.
Today I am faced with more failure. More inadequacy that I’ve managed to let into my life. As my brain uses the nicotine to jumpstart itself, I remember that my water was turned off yesterday, which leads to a path of even more failures and inadequacies I’ve experienced over the past few months. I take another hit, close my eyes and let the mist from the rain cover me.
“Not today. Not Now. Not yet.”
With having no water, I can’t make coffee – that will have to come in a little while. Coffee helps. Coffee allows me to focus on the tasks that I have set before me today that I will use to forget the trouble at home. Coffee will transform me into a multi-tasking god that will keep my brain so busy that I won’t have to be bothered with the fact of having no water until later tonight when I get back home. Coffee will help me get through the day, and will allow me to forget. Coffee will make it all better, if even for just a little while.
I make my way back inside and somehow get myself ready for the day, and then I am off to join the rat race of traffic and morning hurriedness. It was yet another mindless task that I managed to accomplish quite well, and safely, without having caffeine flowing freely within me. The kids off to school, red lights, more traffic, and finally the gas station, where I can finally pour my mediocre cup of extra bold coffee. And standing at the counter, I stopped.
I heard that quiet voice that I, far too often, block out or don’t have time to listen to. “Don’t forget, you’re supported. Don’t forget, if you do the work, I’ll provide the way.”
I know the voice when it comes, there’s no denying it. It was quiet, and gentle, and full of love. It was God.
I don’t know if there was anyone behind me waiting for me to move. I don’t know if there was music playing through the overhead speakers like usual. I don’t know if the lights in the place were on. I know nothing, other than I closed my eyes and focused on that little piece of love that was surrounding me and making its soundless echoes in my ears.
I could have stood there forever in that space. And while it seemed like forever, I know that it could have only been a few seconds. But it was perfect, it was pure, it was unconditional love – and it was mine. I only wish I was in a place where I could have taken the time to savor the moment and make it last for hours.
If only I could have taken the time to engage that voice of God that permeated through my existence. If only I could have held conversation. If only I could have asked questions, asked for guidance. If I could have surrendered to the myself to that place of knowingness of the Divine. I yearn for that place. I yearn for that peace.
Tomorrow, I’ll be not so eager to be drowned by the caffeine I use to mask the realities of the day. Tomorrow, I’ll be intent on leaving that space open to the Love that is seeking to provide for me. Tomorrow, I’ll surrender the need to control any of it, because I know that I am supported by the Divine and I only need to allow. For I know, that as I surrender, I am whole. Tomorrow, I will engage in conversation.
Because, it’s those quick, quiet, and precious moments, the conversations before coffee, that I am with God.