Steve was supposed to be on a flight that left this morning at 7, so we had alarms set for 4, but then, the phone kept ringing at 3. His flight had been cancelled, and he was scheduled on a flight that left at 7 tonight. Since he needed to be in Milan Sunday morning their time, he found a flight that left at 6 this morning, and we scurried and hopped in the car, and enjoyed crossing the bridge in the dark with the city of SF sparkling. There was very little traffic. We made all the lights, and coming home the same, and there is something magical and mystical about being out that time of day.
I have a book Seven Sacred Pauses, Living Mindfully through the Hours of the Day, and though I might have intention for matins, the pre-dawn prayer, it is rare that I am awake at this time, and yet what a time it is. The crickets are singing, and it's still dark even now at 5:47 and I know light comes, and then, I will move toward Lauds or morning prayer, the Awakening Hour, Sunrise.
What grace to be awake to welcome the day, and to feel how deeply rich these hours where so many sleep, and perhaps part of the richness is the dreams stirring the air like batter for cake.
Jurgen Moltmann: The mysticism of everyday life is the deepest mysticism of all.
