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We are doing it again... sunset redux.
In which we try to watch every single sunset of summer.
It's September now, and it's almost over... just a few opportunities left.
We did this in 2014. We did it in 2015, and in 2016. And this year, it is the same: bliss, bliss and more bliss, as the sun sinks down in the west and calls it another day.
Yes, there has been astounding stress this summer: heat and fire, hurricanes and floods, so much suffering for so many.
And yet, the sheer beauty of it...
In all of this suffering, how can there also be so much bliss?
There is the sun, first high in the sky over the river.
There is the blaze of color and saturation and glow.
There is the sun sliding down till it hangs over the rim of the horizon.
And then there is the drop: as the orb slides beneath the earth.
A few moments later: the Fahrenheit drops, and night begins its night call: birds, crickets, frogs enter chorus.
Last night, the Universe did all over again, perfectly: As the sun dropped, we were listening to Wah! sing "Shiva", and at the moment Wah@ sand "Shiva," the wind picked up and a breeze sang though the trees.
So much bliss! I was completely gone.
To watch the sunset every night is a spiritual practice.
It is a call to meditation, to connection, and to the repeated, insistent cognizance of our place as a human on the earth, and our place as a soul in the Universe.
In which we try to watch every single sunset of summer.
It's September now, and it's almost over... just a few opportunities left.
We did this in 2014. We did it in 2015, and in 2016. And this year, it is the same: bliss, bliss and more bliss, as the sun sinks down in the west and calls it another day.
Yes, there has been astounding stress this summer: heat and fire, hurricanes and floods, so much suffering for so many.
And yet, the sheer beauty of it...
In all of this suffering, how can there also be so much bliss?
There is the sun, first high in the sky over the river.
There is the blaze of color and saturation and glow.
There is the sun sliding down till it hangs over the rim of the horizon.
And then there is the drop: as the orb slides beneath the earth.
A few moments later: the Fahrenheit drops, and night begins its night call: birds, crickets, frogs enter chorus.
Last night, the Universe did all over again, perfectly: As the sun dropped, we were listening to Wah! sing "Shiva", and at the moment Wah@ sand "Shiva," the wind picked up and a breeze sang though the trees.
So much bliss! I was completely gone.
To watch the sunset every night is a spiritual practice.
It is a call to meditation, to connection, and to the repeated, insistent cognizance of our place as a human on the earth, and our place as a soul in the Universe.
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