In considering the dawn

Waking this morning I felt something of a blithe reticence to leave my bed.
It wasn't anything about getting more sleep or languishing in a cuddling lethargy, I felt it more like a pull, a gravity toward the state in which I found myself at that waking moment.

As I silently considered the reason for my slow-to-rise presence I realized that this was a sacred moment, a carefully constructed time for me to dance on the hem of the skirts of meditation.

I allowed the seconds to pass, each considered a gift.
I held to a sense of appreciation for the beginning of an all new day.

Aslan's insistent and annoyed scratching at the door offered opportunity for me to turn my newly wonted peace into action as I waited for his patience to halt his noise. Once he came to a quiet rest (sitting rigidly, staring at first me then the still closed door as if to say, "no, really, take your sweet time. It's simply peachy having no opposable thumbs,") I shuffled off my red boucle blanket and opened the wooden door, allowing his feline pride a sense of satisfaction and reiteration that he did, in fact, control everything, including me.

At that point I decided to appease Newton and stay in motion. I followed Aslan, further opening the wooden door, smiling to myself as it's reverberating creaking once again reminded me of the chuckle of an old gypsy hag. Once in the kitchen I set to grinding the Stumptown beans and filling the pot.
With the coffee brewing I started the shower water and sought a fresh towel. Seeing as how I had neglected to do my laundry the night before I was forced to reuse the bright yellow picnic blanket-sized terry Mum had gotten for me before I left for school the first time.
It always had a way of comforting me with more than its absorbency.

Throughout this whole series of actions I somehow managed to maintain my calm inner flow. My zen, if you will.

And this brought about an unexpected, although much appreciated opportunity for me to once again deliberate to keep myself from judging.
As silently as before I said to myself, "today I will not judge, today I will not judge."

It's no Buddhist chant but it seems to work for me.

And now I'm into my full-fledged day, looking forward to my next interaction, my next moment, my next treasure.