I’m on the road again (hmm, that would make a good song), and have a brief minute to check in with my blogging friends.
My day began at 3:40 this morning, when I was awakened by fierce winds rushing up the human-made canyon of 113th Street in New York. It was a spooky experience, and for a minute or two I was captivated by the startling thought that I had to rush outside to feed the evaporator with sap.
Oh, right. I’m not in Brewster this morning. I don’t need to check anything, take Simon out, find my heavy wool socks to protect my feet from what must be a verrrrry cold morning out there.
I lay there in the dark, listening to the irregular howl of air. Slowly thoughts drifted into silence, and I seemed to loose the sense of “me” and “the wind”. Instead there was an “us” that awakened within — the windandI, a singularity of both frightening power and deep stillness.
Pre-dawn moments are often rich with that kind of awakened awareness. Don’t misunderstand; a felt sense of the Sacred can be more than spooky, it can scare the hell out of you. Literally. Which is not that bad a thing, of course … but it can be wildly unnerving.
What is so amazing to me, the comfort girl of all time, is how much I love the freedom and richness of those awakened, unsettling moments. Life in its deepest reality moves us beyond fear, breathing into us the most delicious, vibrant aliveness.
Not a bad awakening for 3:40 AM.