Surfing the Light Waves

Zenith Arc
My Sunrise Sadhana

April 18th: Day #14

In addition to all of my other intentions described earlier on my Zenith Arc page, it has occurred to me that rising and taking my walk each day before the sun rises above the horizon has another provocative dimension to it.

That being that I am bringing my presence to the same moment of each day, but not the same time. Despite variations in cloud cover, I am abiding in the same light each day, dwelling in one phase of the continuum of  phenomena that make up the entire day. I am subsisting in a period of stasis within a dynamic system of astronomical proportions.

Each day on its journey to the solstice the sun rises earlier, and thus I rise earlier to walk in the light of the dawn.  Each day, I revel in the moment of dawn,  and the moment that the sun actually rises, but the time on the clock is of course changing. And the season is changing; with it the plants and animals around me are changing.  The inclination of the earth’s northern hemisphere toward the sun is changing. And the earth’s position relative to the sun is changing as it makes its journey around it, which is of course what is at root of all the other changes that I experience around me.

Beyond that, the earth’s relationship to the moon and to the other planets in the solar system is changing; and the relationship of the solar system  to the galaxy is changing as it rotates within the galaxy, and solar system’s position in the galaxy is changing as the galaxy itself rotates around the massive black hole located at its center. And the galaxy’s position in the universe, and its relationship to the other galaxies,  is changing as the universe expands ever outwards.

By doing my moving mediation at the same moment of each day, I am inhabiting a still point amidst cosmic change.

Light, of course, displays properties of both a particle and a wave; it can be measured as either, though not simultaneously.  But by immersing myself into the same moment of light each morning, I now visualize myself as a particle of light, surfing upon the crest of a light wave, being carried forward to some unknown and distant shore.


The Penitent

Shrouded with hood,
I walk with head bowed,
pacing slow and solemn,
like a medieval penitent,
in nylon blue rain gear,
contemplating my footsteps,
my heartbeats,
the meter of my thoughts,
and the syncopated drumming
of raindrops upon my crown.

The gentle, sleepy rain,
not quite awake enough
to fall with purpose,
a sprinkle here and there,
it drifts in and out
of conversation with me.
What message is the rain
tapping out to me?

Entwining rhythms
of footsteps, heartbeats,
thoughts, and raindrops,
plus my unmeasured breath,
and countless other subcutaneous
and subterranean rhythms,
what aggregated morse code
am I tapping out to the universe?
An SOS? I Surrender?
Stay clear – under quarantine?
What message do I wish to emanate?
How do I change my rhythms
to send that signal?

Zenith Arc

I have started a new page on my blog to to track my Sunrise Sadhana from now until the Summer Solstice.

Here is my beginning entry from yesterday…


Zenith Arc
My Sunrise Sadhana


April 5th: Day #1

Today begins my personal Spring. Or so the voice in my head told me as I was out walking before sunrise this morning.

And so I’ve resolved that today also begins my journey to the summer solstice. Each day I will rise before the sun, earlier and earlier to keep pace with its expanding arc as it journeys towards its zenith, and take my walk in the glimmering, that quiet hour in which the dark has been pierced and the light is growing, but the world is still pristine, unsullied by the responsibilities of life and the world of commerce that clogs our streets and minds. Each day I shall watch the sunrise, to revel in the glory of the star that gives light and warmth and life to our planet, to behold the new beginning of each day, to celebrate the promise that new beginning holds, and if not celebrate – if my mood proves to gloomy – to at least honor that promise by bearing witness to the rising sun.

It was actually the robins that drew me out of my home this morning. The building chorus outside my window called to me, irresistible sirens whose voices have so many times lured me into pleasurable sojourns.

The invitation this morning was so reminiscent of a morning almost 30 years ago when I lived in north woods town of Bemidji. That morning too the robins called to me, and I enjoyed a walk of sublime peace through the empty streets that lead me to the shores of lake Bemidji. So today there was no thought of refusal as the robins coaxed me from my warm bed to venture into the chill spring air.

This walk, now in Minneapolis, led me to the shore of Lake Harriet. As I reached the far side I turned back to the east to discover the sun just beginning to creep over the horizon and climb through the trees that line the lake. There is a thin mist hovering above the frozen lake, it veils the sun just enough so that the eye can look upon it without discomfort. Through this veil the sun rises like a pure incandescent sphere, as round as a marble.

With its crisp edges and muted light, the sun could easily have been mistaken for the full moon, even its size was right. As it cleared the treetops, it hung there for a moment and a pileated woodpecker broke the silent morning air with its raucous cuck-cuck-cuck-cuck –cuck!


A Haiku:
Woodpecker proclaims
sunrise of a new beginning
– the shaman’s rooster

*                     *                     *

For many years I have wanted create a ritual practice leading up to the summer solstice of rising at least 1 hour before sunrise and going for a walk, and watching the sun come up. Of course, this means that one must rise earlier and earlier as the days pass and the solstice approaches. Where I live in Minneapolis, Minnesota, at the 45th parallel – exactly halfway between the equator and the north pole -the sun rises at 5:26 CDT on the solstice, which falls on June 21. This means rising at least by 4:26. I will have many early mornings!

I am inspired to engage in this practice by the desire fully immerse myself into the seasonal change, to really experience the longer and longer days, to enjoy the dawn, to fill my lungs with fresh morning air and hopefully to fill my head with fresh morning thoughts, and to witness the daily miracle of rising sun.

Added to this long held desire to engage in this ritual, a soulfriend introduced me to the practice of a yoga sadhana, which is a commitment to a daily spiritual discipline intended for self-improvement or self-transformation.

There is something about the incremental pace of the changing season that I find deeply appealing, rising those few minutes earlier each day as the sun rises just a few moments earlier. But amassing over time, great change takes place. Perhaps part of my hope is that I will undergo an incremental change as well. The sun is my guiding light in this process.




Walking the Labyrinth

Standing on the edge,
on the outside looking in
the center calls to me,
the navel of the universe
the eye of the storm
the calm repose in the swirling chaos.

There, just there it is,
So near it seems,
there, just there, a few steps away
so I embark upon the journey
that I may soon rest within the center.

I walk the path
The path unfolds
I seek things out
I make decisions
I follow my feet
My life unfolds

I near the center
And feel the centeredness
My life make sense
It all comes together
Ah, that feeling of arrival
My journey nearly complete.

But there –
another bend in the path
I turn the corner
Led away from the center
Was it a necessity or a misstep?
What is this new quadrant
In which I find myself
How did I come to be here?

Finally, after all the false steps
The center again approaches,
There, just there it is
But a few steps away
How good it is to touch the center
Soon I will dwell within the center

But once more as it nears
There’s a bend in the path
a corner to be turned.
So close, so close…
I was there
this can’t be true
to be pulled away
led away yet again

Traveling in endless epicycles
The path makes it’s demands
trials and tribulations
must be traversed
the only way past the pain
is through the pain.

The pain of my choices
Create inviolable walls
Of unrelenting karma
I cannot cheat the labyrinth
each step must be taken
despite the anguish

Is there no way out
Of these endless epicycles?
Will this winding path
take a lifetime to unfold,
until, at the closing moment
will I finally reach the center?

Traveling physically,
The only way through our karma
is to transact it, each step must be taken
Traveling metaphysically,
Our karma is released
We transcend the walls of the labyrinth

Forming wormholes
Through the inviolable walls
From the swirling edge of the maelstrom
to the center of the universe
The shortest distance
Between two points…

Enter into Spirit
We are translocated
We arrive at the center
Then, Departing Spirit
we make the quantum leaps,
leap ahead on the path
entire epicycles erased from necessity.

Dwell within Spirit
And we dwell within the center
We are in the labyrinth,
But not of it.

Snowshoeing After the Storm

Together you say, “Let us explore this province of life.” So together you carve a path that wends through the land that has so enchanted you,not simply to pass through it, but to enjoy the terrain that walking the path reveals. And together you walk the path and share its beauties.

Then the storms come, the trees fall, and the way seems to be lost. But together you clear the path where you can, or choose to wend in new ways where obstacles persist. Or you allow the path to remain obscured, to become overgrown, until it is just a trace of memory.

Snow - blow downs

So many memory traces, so much yet to explore on this path.