Morning Meditation

 

My morning walks are energy-renewers and sanity-keepers.  If the sky is clear, they often take me to Hugo's Bay, site of morning sunrises, evening sunsets, inspired kisses and official proposals.  The silence, the light, the cold air and the sight of vast expanses of water or snow fill my eyes, my ears, my lungs and satisfy, well, my soul.  

London the wonderdog is my constant companion.  If our schedules coincide, Steve and I will go out together.  It is a routine: morning walk after London eats, evening walk after London eats.  As if the walk is more important for London than it is for us.  Morning walk before Meaghan runs around with a class of 24 kids, evening walk after Meaghan has run around with a class of 24 kids.

I've been thinking a lot about meditation and the ability to have a peaceful mind and spirit even when everything else is hectic and chaotic.  I've had lots of good talks, emails and reads about this.  I like that meditation is not solely done with legs crossed, palms turned up.  It can take many forms, such as during my morning walks:  being aware of the layers of light from the sunrise casting tints and shades across ice and trees, listening to my boots crunching the snow and then the surprising sound of my own voice as I start a conversation with the dog that has just cut me off at the knees as he streaks down the path.  

Amen.