Every morning when I awaken, the first thing I do is let Beaumont, our 1 year old Sheepadoodle, out into the backyard. For some reason, he will not go out unless I do. No matter the weather, he waits patiently until I step outside before venturing forth.
There have been moments when I have allowed impatience to govern my response. Times when I’ve sighed, heavily, stepping outside only to quickly retreat back into the house once he’s exited.
But I am learning.
Learning that the gift he awakens with the door’s opening is the offering of space to stand in reverence with morning’s presence on the deck. Learning that he’s not being resistant. He’s inviting me outside to savour the dew-kissed air with him.
What a lovely gift he’s opened up for me.
I step out into the cool, crisp morning air fresh with dew or last night’s rain. I smell the flowers, listen to the birdsong and the splash of the fountain, fill the feeder and sit quietly in the morning treasuring this moment of tranquility. In the distance, I can hear the faint hum of traffic heralding morning’s rush hour yet to come. The silver bullet of a jet flies overhead en route to some distant city. A squirrel chatters in the crab apple tree. A magpie caws from its perch on our roof.
In these moments, I am immersed in nature, in the awe of and reverence of life unfolding, of being at one with my world around me — even living here in the city, life is a wondrous and rich tapestry that supports me and gifts me with every breath I take.
This is morning. This is life. This is being. Present. Here. Now. Breathing. Savouring. Treasuring. Life.