Prayer (Pose)

I woke up this morning long before an alarm clock told me to.

As summer winds down, life should either be like
an alcoholic snow cone
(doesn't it look like a sunrise?),
or like  a fruit infused healthy cooler.
This is obviously the former.
*But* it's from last weekend.

I'm not a morning person. So it's always a surprise, my body being ready to rise and shine before expected. I was particularly thrown this morning, after having gone to bed just 4 hours prior. How could I possibly be ready to face the day. But there I was, energized and unable to go back to bed. I did just finish taking a course of steroids last week, so I suppose that's where the unaccounted for energy and odd sleep patterns come from.

Anyway, no matter the reason, there I was. Wide awake. I started my morning with home brewed iced tea and a series of yoga poses. I considered that maybe there was a minyan somewhere near me performing selichot (the penitential prayers leading up to Rosh Hashana/the high holiday season) that I should look up and head to, but I was spending my entire day ahead within a community and, quite honestly, didn't want to be immersed in one just because my body was convinced I hadn't been out partying until 2 am the night before.

Dancing Shoes... or devil's work?

In fact, my feet were cut up from cutting a rug while wearing shoes I hadn't worn in seasons. So, I stayed home in those wee hours this morning. I had my own prayerful day... while I stood in prayer pose, sat in prayer pose, thinking over my relationship with prayer all the while... but in a sort of a voided disconnect where brain and body weren't really in communication.

I finalized details to meet friends for the subway ride down to our event. I ate breakfast. I packed extra snacks for the day. I made a canteen of Good Earth iced tea to go. I was running perfectly on time.

Then I walked outside and couldn't help myself. I wanted to be a reflection of the skies above me. It was the perfect sunny day. It was the perfect temperature. There were darling clouds, large, white, beautifully generous, nearing the sun. I thanked God for the sun and the glory and for allowing me to feel blessed. I thanked God for blessing me with this day... and then got swallowed up into the subway station, not before being jostled by a homeless man, and accomplishing the tasks at hand.

At the end of the day, we walked a bit across the base of Manhattan. I must admit it, I wasn't concerned with the outdoors. All I could do was thank God for the people who'd surrounded me, who'd inspired me, who'd made me feel more reflective than prayer has and more motivated than I can be when I am solely in my own (head)space. On the subway, another homeless man, I have a policy against giving cash on the subway. But my snack of grapes was more full than empty. I offered them, and he accepted. It wasn't a balancing experience, or intended to counter the morning's confrontation, but there it was, something a little out of the ordinary.

As I got back home and took a walk around the neighborhood, I couldn't help but reflect that there were words said today that reached me at my core. They effected me on a personal and communal level. They enveloped me in a sense of gratitude. They were able to remind me why putting care into each relationship I cultivate is so important. They connected me in a way I wasn't connected this morning. They allowed me to end my day in a different type of prayer than I had started it with. Not needing the physical movements of yoga as the gateway to the mindfulness, but simply being mindful.

And, I must admit, being indoors wasn't so bad. After all, I spent last Saturday and Monday almost exclusively outdoors, and all that got me was a bit of a sunburn. Well, and tickets to Shakespeare in the Park. I can never resent a day spent in line for tickets to Into the Woods.