A ribbon of red, crossing the blue expanses of cloudless sky and Lake Superior, signals impending sunrise. I'm perched on a beach boulder, all bundled up, facing the glow. An easterly breeze caresses and invigorates. Waves lap on the shore. Seagulls squawk. The aroma of fresh doughnuts wafts my way.
As the sun peeks over the horizon, rising more quickly than I expect, a line of color - first reddish, then orange, and finally gold - dances across the waves and appears to move directly toward me, almost as if I'm being personally greeted. I feel a connection with the dancing light.
Competing with the nourishment and tender mercies of all this beauty, a chattering mind tugs for my attention, serving a menu heavy on regrets and rehearsals - not tender, not merciful, and certainly not nourishing
Once again, I'm invited to choose: powerful and familiar old habits or the fresh beauty of what's happening now. Unless I make the choice consciously, the automatic prevails.
So, can I treat myself to this moment?
Can I really let a new day dawn?