The East. I feel it in the rising sun as it greets me this morning. I use my five senses to find my way into the day. A small meditation, an offering to what may come. I feel the warmth of the morning on my face. I allow it to sit with me and I accept the invitation to live in its muted light. I smell the autumn through my open office door and there is something familiar. What is it? Are these memories of passing moments spent with family, walking through crunching leaves, chasing the fleeing summer? I touch my keyboard and realize it can be a source of connection, not just work. I move on and my fingers dial in what it is I want to say, to communicate, to feel. I see what is around me, a birdbath full of water from the rain of a previous day, and I think about how water fills us up in ways we cannot know. I hear the slowing of the season. The birds dim their cacophony and live into a rhythm that takes them to their center. They fly with a purpose and what is it? Migrating, fleeing, playing, searching. I don’t really know but I can sense it when I am still, even though their chirping is not. The slight breeze lands on my taste buds and I wonder why are they called buds?
So many things I do not know. So many things I cannot know. And must I? Is there wisdom waiting in the not knowing? These are questions I ask myself and I ask of my clients. Can we sit quietly and wait for what comes? Can we take action and explore the unknown? Where is the path? Can we create one, together?
This is the jumping off place, a place where we begin. Let’s go.