7.6
November 5, 2022

The Quiet, Sacred Truth of the Morning Darkness.

 

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I awaken to what feels like nothing.

A pitch-black room filled with silence and space. My eyes are wide, and still, nothing. The peacefulness of emptiness, nothingness, creates a blanket of calm over my mind and heart.

This is the moment I live for—the moment I awake for—because in the stillness, the darkness, the space, I find truth.

I’ve been searching for truth for some time now, but the truth becomes fuzzy in the busyness of the day. I often forget that the truth is always within me. Inside me, there is darkness, stillness, space, truth. All I have to do is remember my breath, feel my breath, and return to the space in my heart.

My mind has been clouded by muddy water and the stone I’ve been searching for can only be found in the crystal-like waters I forget I can create.

Instead, my shallow breath breathes in the constant stimulus that encompasses me until I rest my head at night, toss and turn, and sleep the dirt away.

My body can feel the sun moving toward the horizon, though there is still no light. My eyes spring open like clockwork and there it is, again. The stillness of my mind and heart almost tangibly surrounds me in the guise of pure darkness.

I feel it for a while. It’s a quiet truth, a sacred moment of being, a religious experience.

In the morning, I feel the most alive, the most free, the most me.

Though the sweet feeling of the morning shadows will always hold a unique place of peace, I’m learning to harness this feeling in the bustling, brightness of day.

I’m learning that stillness is always available; the truth I hunt is not as elusive as it often feels. And all I have to do is breathe. But really, breathe. In and out, up and down, here and now.

The breath is our gateway to becoming intimate with our knowing—our intuition. It’s easy to get lost in the muck when our minds are pulled by the currents of the day. But when we can return to the still, quiet space we always hold within, the current will slow. And gently, easily, peacefully, we float.

And so, as the sun begins to paint a pink hue on the pillowy clouds before me, I remember that the stillness of the dark morning is a place I can take with me—it’s a place I always have within.

So I carry the morning with me and I allow the clear stream to take me.

I just have to remember to breathe.

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