Wednesday, April 15, 2009

The Awakening Hour

There's a special time at night when the house gets quiet. The hum of the refrigerator stops and the air conditioner kicks off, signaling that it's finally cool outside. The dogs have fallen asleep, softly breathing. The squawking parrot is finally silent, all puffed up in her covered cage.

It's what I call, oddly enough...

"The Awakening Hour".

It's comparable to what happens when you first begin to wake up in the morning. You're still dreaming, but awareness is creeping in as your dream begins to fade. If the dream is sweet, you resist and try not to wake. You want it to last as long as possible so you'll remember the faces, but you know the odds.

In the Awakening Hour, the rhythmic sound of soft snoring lulls me into a peace that has eluded me throughout my day. My mind opens up and I imagine the world as it could be. Kinder, clearer, full of possibilities and endless hope. Ideas take flight and thoughts of what I might do and be if I could live in this moment forever, make me feel whole once again. Although my body is tired, my mind is alive and along with it, the need to share and express and become a conduit through which creative energy can flow freely. It is the time when I can be who I was meant to be, uninterrupted.

The Awakening Hour is when I am most creative. Words become as precious as raindrops to dying marigolds, quenching my soul as they flow from my fingers. I feel renewed and rewarded, grateful for the vision that's come before I close my eyes, lie down and surrender.

Some say it's crazy. To be writing and doing while the world slumbers is a curious thing to most. But not to me. It is where I find bliss and understanding, magic and confidence. The Awakening Hour is when I'm most alive.

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