The Time Has Come, Now I Write

Dawn… The waking hour…

When Mother Earth pulls back the covers of night....and yawns to the awakening of a new day.

As her eyes flutter open, the birds commence a melodic morning chorus.

As she stretches herself awake, the wind exhales the breath of a morning breeze.

As the vestiges of nocturnal slumber recede, the sky dispels the inky darkness of night.

Like a child stretching on tiptoes, a faint halo of golden-orange stretches to peek over the horizon.

Our dazzling earth star, prepares for its daily debut as the blackness that was night fades to a pre-dawn grey.

This artistic production of nature called “The Day”, that repeats every 24 hours, is really the sun’s show.

The Sun is the lead actor, the irreplaceable talent with no need for an understudy.

It has risen to the occasion since time immemorial, never once failing to deliver an awe inspiring performance.

One of my favorite locations from which to observe this daily display of celestial theater is the North Georgia mountains.Three years ago, our family started a tradition of renting a mountain cabin for Christmas. It’s an eagerly anticipated year end delight, that has gifted us with a treasure trove of memories.

There are many things we love about the cabin, but it’s most cherished feature is the back porch that spans the length of the house. Added bonus---it overlooks a lake, adorned by lush greenery--comfortably snuggled between mountain peaks.

In the pre-dawn hours, the surrounding view is an endless expanse of black. There are no streetlights, so nothing is visually discernible with the naked eye. But our human inability to see the mountain and lake at night does not negate their presence. They are still there…temporarily obscured from sight….tucked away under a blanket of darkness.

And then breaks the dawn…..

The daily game of peak-a-boo between the sun and the Blue Ridge mountains is an apt metaphor for my life’s journey. In 2020, the sunlight of awareness has dawned on many areas of my life exposing truths and realities, that like the mountain surroundings at night, were always there, just momentarily obscured from sight.

Some of my most vivid memories of childhood are of being alone in my room reading and writing.

I always had a notebook nearby.

I always had a passion for the pen.

I always loved the written word.

As I grew older and excelled academically....I paid less attention to the soft whisper of my inner wisdom.

I prioritized the loud lure of practicality over the quiet call of passion.

I pursued a sensible degree in business…. followed by a sensible career in Human Resources.

My passion for prose, was kicked to the curb….left ignored and unattended, until recently re-awakened.

That first love is now rekindled.

Fiery flames of enlightenment, illuminate the desire that was always there.

Enlightened Awareness is its own internal sun.

The daily dismissal of the preceding night’s darkness by the morning sunrise, mirrors my soul’s dismissal of outdated thinking, limiting beliefs, toxic relationships, and patterns that no longer serve me.

I now see with clarity talents left untapped, passions left unpursued, and dreams long deferred.

But no more! The night has ended.

It’s summer high noon in the realm of my awareness.

The blaze of intentionality powerfully illuminates my pen....the weapon of my inner literary warrior.

It is the battle sword I am now emboldened to unsheath.

I wield it with passion, power, and purpose.

The time has come....Now I write!

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