Patience is a virtue...or so I've been told

I woke up the other day and came across this on the interweb. It spoke to me in a way I've been longing for, it reached out and touched my innards. 

It reminded me of all the things I thought I knew way back when, all the things I had dreamed for, all the things I thought were important. It reminded me of all those things and then I remembered that most weren't what I was yearning for anyways but were ideas of what I thought I was suppose to be, of things I was suppose to accomplish and achieve.

We as people, me included, are so quick to say what we need, what we want, form ideas and opinions based on loosely spun information gathered from the outside world. We think we have all the answers or at least where to look for them. We look outward to the world, society, our peers for answers that can only come from looking within. We are so short sighted with our goals and dreams and solutions to the worlds problems, let alone our own, that we forget the questions.

I've never really been a patient person. It must have been my mothers favorite thing to say to me when I was young, "Patience is a virtue, Melissa." I was always so quick to remind her that it was my life and I'd live it how I wanted to regardless of who or what got hurt along the way. I thought I knew it all but looking back I had no clue what life was about. 

I should have heeded her advice; taken things a little slower, appreciated all the nuances around me, been thankful for all the little things I was picking up along the way. I should have looked toward my future self with love and admiration, not unreasonable expectaions of a life lived to fit within the world's confines. 

I'm reminded of all the good things in my life that I had to wait for. All the things I know now that I wouldn't do different and some that I probably would. I'm reminded of the educational process called Life; not right nor wrong just different for everybody. It might not be pretty all the time but it's beautiful when looking out from within. It isn't a test to pass or fail, it is an experiment to experiance, in all its wonder, in all its certainty. 

Watching the world wake up

So your either a morning person or you're not. Usually if you're not, that means your a night owl. I know many of each but the morning has always spoke to me in a way the night never could. I always have loved the early hours of light, the day slowly coming into being. Getting to watch the earth wake up, seeing the natural world come into the light and feel alive. The darkeness is comforting to me only when I know the gleam is right around the corner. A blanket that keeps you warm until the chill has left the air and is no longer needed. It feels more alive too, the energy starting to shift about and transform into movement.

I love the feeling of being rested. To lay awake in bed, thinking up the day is an important time for me. To give purpose to your day before it starts, sets in motion the energy around you. Everyday is a choice and one we are lucky to make. It usually hits me around 5:30am and that is almost always not depending on when I went to bed. I can't help it really, my internal clock says wakey wakey and once my mind starts its outta bed for me. Those few percious moments though, when I'm still emerging into the day's self, are when I get to say thanks and put forth my intention into the world.

I start most of my days, once I'm outta bed, the same way by boiling water and stretching my body.  I drink coffee therefore I boil and I'm alive therefore I stretch. I'm a creature of habit, I like it that way. Lucky for me I live in a home that has a view out my window. Although, at 5:30am its dark, really dark and there is nothing to really watch yet. So instead I wait. I wait for the light to come out and play. I wait for the hummingbirds to approach their feeder eagerly drinking it up, the barren tree to fill up with little sparrows to big blue jays looking, hoping for full feeders too, the clouds to come into clarity and start showing off their plans for the day, and the mountains to show themselves in all their glory. While I wait, I stretch. Who knew that in the time it takes to boil a kettle of water, approximately 6 min, I could feel so alive.

Years ago I worked at Starbucks and was the opener. That meant waking up when most others where going to bed. A 4am wake up is not fun, even for a morning person such as myself. I always felt like I was rushed into my day. I would wake up, take 10 minutes to get ready and head out the door. Off into the hurried realm of society without a moment to myself or thoughts of the world around me. Once at work it was a rush to get everything done before the hordes of people would be rushing in to get their morning coffee, then rushing off to their workplace. We seem, as a society, to always be rushing, trying to be somewhere else other than where we are, not really appreciating the day in front of us but rather trying to just get through it. I know I'm one of the lucky ones. I no longer need an alarm to wake me up for work and yes, I'm still employed just somewhere else that allows me the freedom of my mornings.

Beginnings...

A beautiful day awaits, its right below the chaos.
Waiting, wanting, whispering; it sleeps.
Pushed to the edge, its breaks but then it rises.
So many choices we must make before the dawn approaches, under the veil of darkness.
Hidden in plain sight and bright lights, our thoughts demand action.
Movement steps in, showing us the way.

Thoughtful actions that will move you to a different music.