Golden Mornings
Dear friend,
I surface long enough to turn off my phone’s alarm and plunge back into the depths of sleep. At least there’s an attempt to return. In younger years the attempt would have been splendidly successful. Now, having passed the mid point of life in this body, something kicks in and I find myself swinging my legs out from under the warmth of the duvet and stepping into another day on earth.
The form in the mirror, I recognise. Something shining in the eyes.
The autumnal sunlight this morning is golden and the air cold, fresh and still. The plants indoors and in the garden seem happy. Their colours look deep and solid. Yesterday we cleaned and cleared up indoors so the energy feels fresh and light.
I’ve been up in the loft.
Fitting floor panels.
Dragging out soot black, dusty old timber. Sealing gaps. Hoovering up the debris of the last hundred years. It feels as if I am working on the attic of my mind. Opening up space.
Evaluating what has worth, what to keep and what to move on.
I think of William Ruskin. Is it beautiful? Can you use it?
It’s not so clear cut.
But the debris of the past. That can go.
Self reproach.
Who among us has not made mistakes?
Regret.
Who has not bound themselves in a tangle of questionable priorities?
Self doubt.
Who has not been misled, by the false self?
What is false is unreal.
What is unreal.
Does not exist.
What to keep then?
Forgiveness.
Who has not craved it?
Kindness.
Who has not felt the need?
Humility.
Who has not tripped over our false pride?
Peace.
The world thirsts for it.
Yesterday was John Lennon’s birth day.
Imagine.
All the people.
Waking to the creative power within each one of us.
To create a world which reflects the one inside.
Faith in love.
Is real.
The only reality.
Golden.
Like the light this morning.
Till tomorrow
Love
Mikey