Up early, watching dawn from the chair by my altar, big windows looking out at the gradual light announcing  a new day. This morning there was hard rain pouring down outside my window. Last year I replaced the very drafty, 80-year-old and original-to-the-house, glass block garage windows  with two  6×3 -foot sliders. It’s warmer and I can see out into the spruces that Hal and I dug from a tree farm and planted here 55 years ago, now grown into 70-foot giants! The one closest to my window is 20 feet distant from the house, which seemed a fine distance when it was 18” tall. It’s so large now my arms cannot circle the trunk. We planted twelve trees.  Two died; we moved 5 of them further back in the yard when they quickly were crowded at almost 4 feet tall. I call the remaining 5 out my window the Guardians. They are  Norway and Blue Spruces, with a beautiful energy! This most visible one is alive with birds, squirrels and other life all year long.

I often find myself singing quietly when I first sit, whatever comes into my heart. This morning, again  it was “Morning has Broken”:

I was feeling some sadness this morning;  a dear friend was to fly in to visit for 5 days but had to cancel due to weather-caused flight delays. We’ll get together in a few months. But I was looking at the sadness; seeing loneliness. I lived for over 50 years with a loving intimacy on every level. Hal and I could and did talk about everything. I have many loving people in my life – friends, Hal’s caregivers, my children and grandchildren, but a truly intimate relationship invites us to be fully connected and honest with ourselves. I miss Hal, though he is with me most of every day.  Envisioning time with my friend, I see the feelings I would share and have pushed aside with an “I’ll look later.” I don’t need her to be here for that, only to acknowledge my pain and fears, and open deeply to the human condition. I avoid that; we all do. What helps to support that opening and honesty? Two things, I find: Compassion for myself and all of us humans, and joy! I began with my breath, with vipassana, and later, just resting in awareness, open to  joy.

Writtn by Barbara Brodsky, Founder and Guiding Teacher