Nothing but me and the early morning. The repeated tap tapping as the woodpeckers peck incessantly at the trees. The birds – singing their sweet mating songs. The geese – honking loudly…fighting for their rights to their nesting territory and grounds. The sun – just barely rising..bathing the misty waters in its first light.
As spring rubs the sleep out of its winter eyes…a new day dawns.
Something comforting about returning time after time and again and again. Something – for me – about rituals..about repetition..about the familiar ease and security I find within. That although each day is the same..it is always new. The eyes thru which I view it – change and evolve and see the same scene that was here yesterday in a different light today. The body thru which I feel it – is one day filled with grace and poise and perfect elegance..and – on another – clumsy and awkward and finds me tripping over my own two left feet.
The walk is the same walk. The mat I reach for – the same one as it was yesterday. Only me – I’m changed.
Time after time.
Day after day.
The internal dialogues..the self-talk…the view and vision of who I am at any given moment on any given day – shifts and changes and evolves and grows. I’m one minute – infinitesimally small…insignificant in the eyes of the great grand universe. In the next – I’m larger than life..overfilling. I can be bold and brazen in one breath..and timid and afraid in the next. In one day – I’m unstoppable. Determined to conquer all. In another – I’m wishing to simply pull those covers back over my head…feeling the enormity and weight of the world overwhelming.
All parts and pieces of me and myself and I. Gently…compassionately – embracing. Accepting.
It’s in that repetition that grounds and centers. The same practice. The same space. The returning to the same place..in a different time…on a different day. It’s witnessing the change in the seasons..the migration of the birds…the new growth on the trees and the flowers pushing their determined heads thru the fertile ground.
Day after day.
Month after month.
Year after year.
To the unobservant – perhaps – the subtleties are indistinguishable..the world remains as it was yesterday. But – to my carefully tuned and observant eye – it’s forever and always new.
A scene I’ve witnessed and experienced hundreds of times..maybe thousands. Each time – just a little different. And – in that difference – I see myself reflected.
In another light.
In another day.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Cross-posted today over at Vision and Verb - where a collaborative group of like-minded women from all over the world share their passion for photography and the written word.