Slightly Light

The sun doesn't rise until 7:06 a.m. here in the North country, but when i sit down to meditate at 6 a.m., the sky is slightly lighter than dark. We've gained 15 minutes of daylight in the morning, and so, about an hour before daybreak, light starts leaking into the sky. It's a sight for sore eyes. I can feel my heart dancing in the pre-light of the coming day.

My little groundhog self burrows out of a warm bed, pulls on fleece pants and wool shirts, and goes downstairs to meditate in the dark-light, in the lightening of the dark.

Groundhog Day is coming.

https://pixabay.com/photos/winter-dawn-tree-fog-nature-cold-3321361/

Winter Sunrise

The earth turned last Saturday, and now we are gaining daylight at the beginning of the day as well as at the end. Already we've gained 24 minutes of daylight in the evening. Thank goodness. So far we've gained 2 minutes in the morning. Now those minutes start to add up--11 minutes a week of additional daylight.

Meditation can be like that. The more you practice, the easier it becomes. Though sometimes it feels more difficult too.

Just keep adding another minute here and there. Another minute of mindfulness is always good.

One More Minute

The sun is setting one minute later today than it did yesterday! One more minute of daylight at the end of the day. Hooray!

The mornings, however, are continuing to be darker with the sun rising one minute later every day. The balance point is, of course, the solstice--one week from today--when the gain of light outweighs the loss.

Do you hear desire? The desire for one more minute. Simply notice desire when it arises. "I want...." Say it again. And again. Feel how desire feels in the body.

The minute comes. It goes. Desire goes too. Poof!

Flat Calm

The gardens are looking flat. Tall phlox, bee balm, asters, mums have been cut down and composted.

Sunlight is "flat." The sun has moved so far to the south that it shines obliquely over the landscape.

Mood can begin to feel flat on gray days as the hours of daylight shorten.

I experience calm as flat, but it's a slightly happy flat, like floating on the river in my kayak.

Calm. Let's enjoy this calm vacation from the hub-bub of news, becalmed from the busy-ness of going and doing.

How does calm feel to you?

Glowing Gazing Globe

In lieu of a jack-o-lantern, i've installed a glowing gazing globe on the front step. I stuffed one string of white fairy lights into the ball, and plugged the extension cord into a timer so that the lights go on at sunset and stay on until bedtime.

I live at the end of a dirt road, and our neighborhood trick-or-treaters long ago aged out of wearing costumes. No one rings my doorbell on Halloween.

I much prefer this glowing globe to turning on the front porch light. It's a bit dim, but still, it's enough light to welcome us home or welcome visitors to the front door.

Welcoming is one form of kindness. We extend a welcome to friends and strangers who aren't that strange, after all. The Buddha greeted everyone as "Friend." I wonder if i could do the same.

Shining

We have 1 minute more daylight at the beginning of the day! Yay! More light!

Right now, we have snow that looks like meringue--shiny (read: icy) and smooth. Sunlight bounces off this meringue-snow creating more light.

Practicing the 4 divine emotions--loving-kindness, compassion, appreciative joy, and equanimity--our joy or compassion begins to double, triple, quadruple, until it's infinite.

Now that we have more light, let's make the 4 boundless qualities of loving-kindness, compassion, appreciative joy, and equanimity shine forth.

The Gift of November

Now that leaves have fallen off the trees,
now when what little daylight we have shines clear and low,
now is the time to take a wander through the woods.

For our vision is unobstructed:
We can see clean through the crowded city of trees.
Our view unhampered by leaves,
which instead of greening above and around us
crunch brownly and satisfactorily under our feet.

Is this what happens with aging? Our bodies bereft of beauty, and, while no one pays attention to our gray and wrinkly form, we see clearly with new eyes. Finally, we glimpse through our decades of delusion. Life unfolding, ever-changing, ever-stressful. And i--so changed in outward appearance from what i was in the springtime of my life--is this still "me"?

The light of day hurries southward.
The "light" in our eyes dims to indistinctness.
And the world becomes soft.