Watching a growing flexibility in practice. The emerging congruency between daily demand and flexible partnering to that demand. Things, once important, fallen away. It is easier to laugh sometimes. To, when tired, fall deeply asleep. To, when called to that creative thinking, focus that thinking on all that is before. To, practice the scales, work a section of a song line, and delight in the engaged improvement in the harmony that sings in that practice. Is it that the practice is flexible or that the practice is more and more present. Woke, slowly and with great gratitude from a shared slumber in the house of the family. This moment it is the home of this family. And, each day, we shift, we change, we move as five flowing streams. Or as strings on a guitar. Sometimes in harmony. Sometimes out of tune. Sometimes in dancing laughter. Sometimes in reverent dirge. Sometimes in ... it can be the whole pallet of the universe. Even to rage and weep. Then, on a falling blustery dawning day; sitting in the quiet of this morning. Being in the moment of this flexibility of practice. The practice of tapping to a community of sharing. With gratitude to each for presence, care, and engagement. With gratitude in each breath.
Does a tree experience insomnia? When the fall, jumps back and forth between summer heat and fall crisp cool, is that inducing schizophrenia? In that light jumping between seasons, does the rose take pause to see it as a joke between the seasons and the elements that create the rapid change? When the same thing happens with man made systems, we seek to find cause and blame. In that seeking, the system may get more rigid. In that rigid frame, it is likely that the now brittle walls of that blaming ire will crack, shatter and spill broken shards over many innocents. In that assignment of 'insomnia' or 'schizophrenia' are we making rigid a supple life? It does cause me pause to think on it.
It is good to tap into the day. As a practice of waking meditation, it is a good harmony to a fine sip of water or the bubbling of the coffee brewing.
It is good to tap into the day. Gratitude for the deep slumber or insomnic tossing, whatever that time has wrought. It is good to tap into the day.
It is good to tap into the day. The dreams of last night may spill out in that tapping. The ideas of, the clarity of, the confused motion of some thinking; they may all spill out in that tapping into the day.
It is good to tap into this day. It is good to smile in that tapping. Hearing the wind push the chimes outside. Hearing the roar of trucks, their jake brakes singing on the wind, hearing the soft tick of the clock are all creation's symphony of this dawn. The 'darkest' before the dawn is now breaking to the light of racing sun. It is good to tap into this day.
In the quiet grace of the morning hour, it is good to tap into this day.