Will there really be a "morning"?

Mornings have transformed in my life, but this didn’t happen without action on my part.  I don’t dictate when the sun rises…because I don’t have that kind of power.  But, with each new sunrise, I have opportunity.  I have responsibility.  I have faith.  Faith that I carry consciously from silence and solitude, into greeting those around me.  Into greeting the day.

Writing about the morning hours is found throughout most of my pieces here, woven throughout words and phrases and themes.  When I reflect on yesterday…I mean, the actual yesterday, or more often than not, many yester-YEARS, I’m conscious of the strands that bring me to the present moment. 

I sang everyday in rehab…well, everyday once I was out of detox.  I hadn’t sung full songs 25 days in a row in YEARS, and certainly not in front of a crowd.  Most vocalizations just occurred as I was leading warm-up with my students or harmonizing with the chorus of whatever bellowed from my car speakers on the way to work.  So, singing every day, and offering that gift to others, everyday…hadn’t occurred in…well, I’m not sure that it EVER did before. Not every day for a month!

I had agreed to be the leader of music for Community Time, which was a one-hour meeting, entirely run by the clients.  Okay, okay…”patients.”  Anyway, I agreed in that moment to start leading the NEXT day, but the patient who had been leading that week, hadn’t shown up.  So, I was spontaneously asked to sing.  On the spot. 

I still had some serious medications in my system that were attempting to get my blood pressure under control, so it was probably NOT the best time to be singing.  Or the best time to be vulnerable.  Or the best time to present my best. 

And that just couldn’t matter.  I knew that I could, so I said my second good YES.  The first YES had gotten me into the doors a few days earlier.  And that day, I said yes to much more than I knew. I said yes to possibility.  I said yes to changing.  I said yes to hope.  I said yes to figuring out the good questions to ask. 

I ask those questions each morning, both the mundane and the spiritual.

“What flavor of creamer sounds good today?”  It’s almost ALWAYS peppermint mocha.

“Why does my back hurt?”  Because I don’t work out enough, and I’m 46.

“What’s my anxiety level this morning?”  Oh…this one changes each day.

“Do I feel like writing?”  Sometimes yes.  Sometimes no. 

“What do I believe in?”  I answer this question when I write.

“What perplexes me?”  Too many answers to write, and I doubt we have the time.

But at least I’m asking the questions.

So, that day in rehab, I had to choose a song in about 30 seconds, maybe less.  I didn’t have accompaniment, and I didn’t have sheet music or even the words. This is what I chose.  It’s ironic that the title is a question.  Well, is that ironic or destined in some way? 

It’s also about morning.  It’s about faith.  It’s about being a seeker.

I don’t like recordings of myself, so this is undoubtedly the first time that I’ve willingly made a selfie-video. But hey, I guess you have to say yes to new and strange things sometimes.