Dear One,
My new neighbor (a human) was standing in the middle of the dark road the other night. I only saw his (her?) shadow, and they were trying to get a glimpse of the two great horned owls perched high up in the palm trees. We were each called out of our homes by the owls' haunting hooting back and forth. The palms were lit by a sliver of a moon, so to see anything but the moon was hopeless. We both stood silent and still, listening to
the hooting calls
, captivated by the magic of the moment. When the dawn began to break, the owls quietened and soon, the songbirds began their conversations.
The very early mornings, the in-betweens, are as potent as the moonlit nights, not just for me, but for all spiritual seekers. They, too, are full of potential and magic and offer each of us the opportunity to tap into that which gives birth to our spiritual growth. As many know, the poem by the 13th Century Persian mystic Jelaluddin Rumi was the inspiration for the birth of the Feast many years ago, and I'll share it here:
A new moon teaches gradualness and deliberation,
and how one gives birth to oneself slowly.
Patience with small details
makes perfect a large work, like the universe.
What nine months does for the embryo
Forty early mornings
Will do for your growing awareness.
Early morning practice help to create a true sense of flow for the day, and makes available the interior resource of well-being and calls us back to our feeling of being home.
Consider all the living beings you come across today and how the way you show up in their worlds impacts them, whether they know it or not.
Your practice affects the way you live, and the way you live has a ripple effect.
Thank you for putting your spirituality first during this time of deep practice. I am practicing with you.