It was a particularly wild week; the kind with demands from so many corners that I felt as though I had been in a boxing ring for five days straight by the time Friday came. Bone weary and soul empty, every ounce of oomph that makes up Joy had been laid on the table in the service of everything and everyone else. Don't misunderstand me, it was not a bad week it was just a demanding one mentally and emotionally. Oh yes, and physically. My back and feet were singing off-key despite sensible shoes and a quick visit to the chiropractor.
With my feet up, reclined and relaxed, I watched the sunset morph from moment to moment. An amazing thing happened as the sky shifted and changed, the landscape changed too. Seems like a no-brainer. But I'd challenge you, and ask when was the last time you sat and intentionally watched the sunset with an eye not only to the sky but to the land as well. As a city dweller, I'd spot a fabulous sunset from time to time across the rooftops of my neighbours near and far. I'd grab the camera and try to capture the beauty and be disappointed in all the rooftops and my shortness. Last night on the swake there was space to see the shifts in light, the brilliant greens of newly leafed trees, the purple hue of the reeds waving at me from the silvery streaks of water. My last memory of being awake yesterday was that vista and the accompanying feeling of peaceful rest, of having space to breathe.
Then I slept deeply and had vivid dreams of fabulous blue italian shoes. This morning with the vision of those shoes dancing behind my eyelids, I awoke to the fresh morning sun. It rose out of the east casting shadows, enormous stage curtain shadows that slowly lifted revealing the colors of the swake, lighting the way to a new day. The sunrise gentled me awake, graciously inviting me to join the other inhabitants of the swake in journeying through another day.