Thursday, September 4, 2008

Morning Jewels and The Prodigal 992

Every morning I wake up at about 6:00. The morning light still distant, I can see the sky through the jungle leaves, painted grey-blue like the storm clouds over the sea. Birds fly and sing. The first ones. The birds that remind the other birds that the time has come to sing and talk and be awake. I am not a bird. So I turn over and go back to sleep.

At 6:55 I get out of bed. My feet hit the stone floor of the bungalow. I’ve grown accustomed to the fact that it’s not cold on the ground but rather warm and cozy. Not like the rock lining a fireplace, but more perfect for an early morning. (Wow. I just remembered a project I completed for Miss Blackstone’s 4th grade science class. We had to invent something [in theory] and advertise it to the class. Oddly enough, I invented a floor heater so you never had to have cold feet in the morning. Man, that’s still a good idea, and here I am just writing on a blog ☺). Now I can join the birds by giving a shout at my roommate Nigel and telling him to get a move on. He must think I am like the first bird, so he rolls over and goes back to sleep.

I take a look outside. The bungalow, a simple three-bedroom house with a small kitchen and two bathrooms sits in a patch of jungle (should start calling it the jungalow) and far removed from the majority of the center grounds. You have to traverse the thicket to get through from the back or down a gravel path from the main road. It’s secluded and getting there at night can be quite a challenge and dodging the odd snake makes for a good adventure. For now, I’m mostly surveying the area to make sure that the wild dogs and monkeys haven’t snatched anything else from our stocks. Already we are down a bath towel and one of my New Balance 992s. (as a side: I did find the shoe eventually, but it went for a pretty good ride and I’ve had to seriously consider what risk I might run by wearing it again. In a brutally honest demonstration of my denial in dealing with this problem, I will say that when I found it, I brought it inside and couldn’t figure what to do with it. In a move of desperate procrastination, I put a moth ball in it to see if it would eat the smell of wet leather. Writing that now and quite apart from the moment, I can truly see just how ridiculous that choice seems, though reasonable at the time. Wow, I just made myself laugh. And I haven’t checked back yet…Oh boy…on we go – and this was supposed to be a more thoughtful blog and here I am writing about shoes, foot warmers and mothballs. I am praying that this entry can be redeemed from here.)

When I return inside, I take a seat just inside the window that lets in the light. I take my morning quiet. Reading a passage from the Bible usually and then spending most of the time to write and think about life the day and questions I usually don’t take the time to consider during the course of the day.

It’s not something I often do with my crew at home, but my mates here do the same (in their own way) and we get it together after 30 minutes or so to share with each other whatever’s been going through the heart and mind. My teammates here think and live thoughtfully and creatively and I’m grateful to hear their insights on life. Sometimes mundane, sometimes funny, sometimes profound and powerful, they all bring a special kind of light to the beginning of the day. When we share, they inspire me and I get down what I can. Here is a collection from our first weeks together.
  • Emotions are our teacher. But they are one of many teachers. They are important, but they are not my sole guide.
  • When the lips of heaven address you by name, pause and listen closely.
  • The greatest enemy of humanity is half-truth.
  • When I say to someone – “I am too busy” – it places the doubt in his mind: “Do I matter?”
  • Being a good potter is not just knowing how to work the clay. One must also work the clay with the right spirit
  • If you have clarity, share it. But share it in love. Love should be a pre-requisite for opening one’s mouth.
I write this and ask for your jewels. What’s been the thought or phrase or reminder that’s been coming to you lately. One little gem that you can share with the small community that visits here from time to time. Share with me and I’ll pass on the good word back to my crew here.

7 comments:

Neidi Hewhart said...

ha, my desire is to write 'don't eat yellow snow' but i somehow think that won't be much help in a warm climate. Instead i'll say that I have also been trying to have these thoughtful moments when i first wake up (some days more successfully than others) and i tend to think more like a child in the morning so i think when you do this you are closer to what you felt safe to dream and wish and hope for when you were a child. not exactly a nugget or anything new but i'm all about encouraging these childhood-like-ish instincts. p.s. this is how i came to realize i will learn to play the drums

thinking and praying and wishing and hoping in NYC...

parker_d said...

i find myself in constant amazement of the benevolent power behind a pure smile and sincere, joyous laughter - it is a gesture transcendent of language.


...and, of course, anybody who knows me knows that I aim to embody that gesture every moment of every day. no small feat, I know. :)


take care, my friend. looking forward to more comments on this topic!

Jimmy and Annie said...

If a jungalow is found in the jungle, is a bungalow found in a bungle?

I'm just spit-ballin' here...

I hope the filched footwear doesn't deter you from running. After a lifetime of it, I've found that runs bring me the most thought and peace. Sweat beads, inhale, exhale, foot strikes on the earth, blood coursing through every capillary...that's transcendence. Anima Sana In Corpore Sano, right?

Parker, to translate: Sound Mind, Sound Body

Chris said...

Yes. Wow. Laughing, Running, Drumming. Some sort of truth in action or leading to action. Fantastic. Thank you.

Liz said...

I've been enjoying morning time at the beach or the rooftop the last few days here in cali and have been joined by joseph campbell (and coffee, but I think I learn less from coffee). here are some of his thoughts i've been tossing around:

"When we fix on the old, we get stuck. When we hang onto any form, we are in danger of putrefication. if we are hanging onto the form now, we're not going to have the form next. You can't make an omlet without breaking eggs."

Yikes! So my attempt and even my instinct to preserve the state of peace and rest in my life when I have it may be keeping me from experiencing what's next. We have to be willing to take things as they come, not just preserve the peaceful state. To stay in one place is to stagnate. We have to smile and embrace the joy and be ready for those eggs to break in order to get what comes next!

(and come on, he used 'putrefication'! that's legit. also, mothballs made me laugh out loud.)

Amanda said...

i can either be smart or stubborn, but not both at the same time.

Nic said...

Yo, know am late to the game here, but I ADORE this list, so had to respond, have two that come to mind:

Walking is the first meditation.
- by far my favorite thing to do in NYC, or in any city I visit, is just walk around, observe, experience all the different neighborhoods and streets, encounter all sorts of people/animals/sights/sounds, it's definitely my favorite way to get to know a new place, and is also my favorite way to ruminate on any particular issue/problem I may be going through. After a great walk, everything becomes clear.

One never grows old at the dinner table.
- time and time again, have found that no matter what city I am in, as long as I am with friends, it is as thought time just stands still, and one just becomes lost in the moment, in the conversation, in the experience, and you are perpetually young. I remember my first awareness of this phenomemon happened in Barcelona, at dinner with several friends from college who had come from all over the world to meet up for a week in Spain. We sat around the dinner table at cozy resaturant in the gothic quarter, had many bottles of wine, cheeses, paellas, and incredible conversations. We closed down the restaurant, and upon walking out onto the quiet cobblestone alley, I recall, for a moment, a jarring feeling, as though when I walked outside I expected I would see the streets of New York, or Cambridge. Among friends, we transcend all time and place. It is the fountain of youth.