Standing in the kitchen by the light of the kettle, I find my way around to make my early morning tea. I stir the honey like a prayer wheel. The sun begins to call its intended coming with the hem of its skirt showing. There is light everywhere in this kitchen. The blue light on the kettle, the first light of day, the flashing of the dishwasher lights, telling someone that its job is done, the salt lamp with its warm glow like the heart of the home. Oh, all this light.
I woke before the day should begin, before the kookaburras, to kiss your freshly woken face. Sitting on a cushion made of piled bath towels, I watched you prepare for your long day ahead. A million thoughts skipping through your mind. I saw them all as they passed by and tripped on worries and plans that are only half composed. The light in your eyes, bright with deep devotional love of me will go with me into this day as a blessing over me.
It is not hot yet, but it will be, just like yesterday. I will feel my skin, my strength and my weariness as the weight of heat presses in. My deep pleasure is the fan that moves the air about this dimly lit room. My growing son asleep under the soft cool summer sheet. His deep breathing of innocence is my early morning call to prayer.
I watched you drive off to the other parts of your life and I felt the missing of you from me already. I know that it will steep further in as the days pass and I will do the work of keeping my heart open to this missing, where I would find it easier to pull away and become independent and without need or want of you. But I choose you know, where once I considered you. We left the turning back place long ago. The smashing of assumptions and the tears are all part of the mantra of this spiritual practice that is called us. Our bed is a holy shrine, our hearts the sacrificial altar.
The candles glow and the incense sticks with their red and ash tips fill the room with the scent of my embodiment. It is part of the ritual of my daily anchoring. I write in my journal. Just words today, suspended on the page. Beautiful words, that speak of other wordily things. My words today are conversation, the courage of yellow, uncover, forgiveness, chamber, suspended, Words like that. I open a book of poetry to a divinely chosen page, as is my pull to do many times a day. Today it tells me
” the skinned knee is better off for having ached. A magnificent inner canyon is being formed from the currents of sacred elements touching – shaping us.”
Oh, all this light.
Love Lotus Indigo Shakti Kruse
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