Before the first birds

This past week, Katy and I started waking up at 4:30 in the morning.

We walk quietly through the dark paths on the property.

Up toward the yoga room at the top of the hill.

She practices yoga while I sit beside a few candles and meditate.

The light slowly changes outside.

Sometimes fog hangs low across the canyon.

And somewhere in the stillness, the first bird eventually begins.

— The insight —

Most practices become complicated over time.

More techniques.

More ideas about what should happen.

More pressure to achieve a certain state.

But sitting there in the dark each morning has reminded me of something simpler.

Attention is enough.

Breath is enough.

Listening is enough.

Not every moment needs to become extraordinary.

Sometimes the practice is just returning before the day begins pulling at you again.

— The shift —

Tomorrow morning, wake up a few minutes earlier than usual.

Sit somewhere quietly before reaching for anything else.

Notice the sounds around you.

Notice your breathing without changing it.

Let the day arrive slowly.

— From the canyon —

The light glows differently each morning depending on the sky.

Some days the fog covers the entire canyon below the yoga room.

A mouse occasionally darts across the floor near the altar.

The birds begin one at a time.

And by the time the light fully arrives, the practice already feels complete.