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I hope it’s ok if I confess to you that I don’t have any clever words today.

When it comes to these final thoughts for the week, which around here we’ve come to call “the homily,” here’s how it works …

I normally get up at 5:00 when the day is dark and brand new. I can be a night owl too—fact is, I love staying up late—in part because my mind never really wants to go to sleep. But if you can tune yourself to the early morning there’s a magic to it that is different than any other time of day. There’s something special about getting up before the sun. The air is fresh and cool, even in the heat of summer, and that’s refreshing.

Everything is quieter and gentler and easier and slower in the early morning. Maybe the best part is not many of us are up at 5 and so it’s a good 3 or 4 hours before anyone will need or expect anything from me. Which means my time is truly my own, and that is a precious thing.

Most importantly, I get to see the day brand new. Nothing has happened yet, everything seems possible again, and in the quiet it’s easier for me to take stock of what’s on my mind and how I’m feeling.

Sunday mornings are no different. Feed the dogs, make the coffee, make sure the kitchen is clean and ready for breakfast, pop on a head lamp and go let the chickens out, do some stretching and breathing, and then head out to the fire pit to sit and watch the world as it slowly begins to come to life.

Our fire pit may be the most sacred part of our home. In the evening it’s often where our tribe gathers. But in the early morning it’s more my personal altar. I sit facing East, sip my coffee, watch the horizon begin to glow yellow and pale blue as the disappearing stars are replaced with the silhouettes of birds. Then I listen. To whatever voices may have something to say. Sometimes the voices seem to come from somewhere unseen. Sometimes it’s just my voice, rising up, needing to express or unburden itself. And sometimes, like today, it’s just quiet.

It’s in those early Sunday morning hours, after I’ve taken stock of myself, that I write down some thoughts to share with you. I’ve always written down such things by the way. The new part since being on the radio is not the listening or the writing, it’s the sharing. And I made a promise to myself once I started sharing that if there wasn’t something to say, I wouldn’t force or fake it.

So here we are. All I came to realize this early morning was that I still love the early morning, and that I’m tired and want to rest today.

For years now I’ve had a quote from E.B. White on my personal Facebook page. It says, “Every morning I awake torn between a desire to save the world and savor it. Which often makes it hard to plan the day.” I think it brilliantly sums up how I feel most of the time. But not today. Today there’s no conflict.

Today I just want to savor, and rest. And if you feel that way too, I invite you to do the same. If at all possible, just take the day. Press pause on whatever there has been too much of lately—work, conflict, social media, news, whatever. Press pause. Catch your breath. And tomorrow we can all get up a little more refreshed and ready to get back to building ourselves a beautiful life.
I hope it’s ok if I confess to you that I don’t have any clever words today. When it comes to these final thoughts for the week, which around here we’ve come to call “the homily,” here’s how it works … I normally get up at 5:00 when the day is dark and brand new. I can be a night owl too—fact is, I love staying up late—in part because my mind never really wants to go to sleep. But if you can tune yourself to the early morning there’s a magic to it that is different than any other time of day. There’s something special about getting up before the sun. The air is fresh and cool, even in the heat of summer, and that’s refreshing. Everything is quieter and gentler and easier and slower in the early morning. Maybe the best part is not many of us are up at 5 and so it’s a good 3 or 4 hours before anyone will need or expect anything from me. Which means my time is truly my own, and that is a precious thing. Most importantly, I get to see the day brand new. Nothing has happened yet, everything seems possible again, and in the quiet it’s easier for me to take stock of what’s on my mind and how I’m feeling. Sunday mornings are no different. Feed the dogs, make the coffee, make sure the kitchen is clean and ready for breakfast, pop on a head lamp and go let the chickens out, do some stretching and breathing, and then head out to the fire pit to sit and watch the world as it slowly begins to come to life. Our fire pit may be the most sacred part of our home. In the evening it’s often where our tribe gathers. But in the early morning it’s more my personal altar. I sit facing East, sip my coffee, watch the horizon begin to glow yellow and pale blue as the disappearing stars are replaced with the silhouettes of birds. Then I listen. To whatever voices may have something to say. Sometimes the voices seem to come from somewhere unseen. Sometimes it’s just my voice, rising up, needing to express or unburden itself. And sometimes, like today, it’s just quiet. It’s in those early Sunday morning hours, after I’ve taken stock of myself, that I write down some thoughts to share with you. I’ve always written down such things by the way. The new part since being on the radio is not the listening or the writing, it’s the sharing. And I made a promise to myself once I started sharing that if there wasn’t something to say, I wouldn’t force or fake it. So here we are. All I came to realize this early morning was that I still love the early morning, and that I’m tired and want to rest today. For years now I’ve had a quote from E.B. White on my personal Facebook page. It says, “Every morning I awake torn between a desire to save the world and savor it. Which often makes it hard to plan the day.” I think it brilliantly sums up how I feel most of the time. But not today. Today there’s no conflict. Today I just want to savor, and rest. And if you feel that way too, I invite you to do the same. If at all possible, just take the day. Press pause on whatever there has been too much of lately—work, conflict, social media, news, whatever. Press pause. Catch your breath. And tomorrow we can all get up a little more refreshed and ready to get back to building ourselves a beautiful life. read more read less

3 years ago #build, #construction, #covid, #dean, #diy, #hardware, #home, #house, #improvement, #sharp, #store, #the, #whisperer, #with