Words are Little Gifts!

An excerpt from Philip Roth's 1969 novel, Portnoy's Complaint:

"Then there's an expression in English, "Good morning," or so I have been told; the phrase has never been of any particular use to me. Why should it have been? At breakfast at home I am in fact known to the other boarders as "Mr. Sourball," and "The Crab." But suddenly, here in Iowa, in imitation of the local inhabitants, I am transformed into a veritable geyser of good mornings. That's all anybody around that place knows how to say—they feel any sunshine on their faces, and it just sets off some sort of chemical reaction: Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! sung to half a dozen different tunes! Next they all start asking each other if they had a "good night's sleep." And asking me! Did I have a good night's sleep? I don't really know, I have to think—the question comes as something of a surprise. Did I Have A Good Night's Sleep? Why, yes! I think I did! Hey—did you? "Like a log," replied Mr. Campbell. And for the first time in my life I experience the full force of a simile. This man, who is a real estate broker and an alderman of the Davenport town council, says that he slept like a log, and I actually see a log. I get it! Motionless, heavy, like a log! "Good morning," he says, and now it occurs to me that the word "morning," as he uses it, refers specifically to the hours between eight A.M. and twelve noon. I'd never thought of it that way before. He wants the hours between eight and twelve to be good, which is to say, enjoyable, pleasurable, beneficial! We are all of us wishing each other four hours of pleasure and accomplishment. Why, that's terrific! Hey, that's very nice! Good morning! And the same applies to "Good afternoon"! And "Good evening"! And "Good night"! My God! The English language is a form of communication! Conversation isn't just crossfire where you shoot and get shot at! Where you've got to duck for your life and aim to kill! Words aren't only bombs and bullets—no, they're little gifts, containing meanings!"

Philip Roth, Portnoy's Complaint

Glimmer

"Greeting is an act of communication in which human beings (as well as other members of the animal kingdom) intentionally make their presence known to each other, to show attention to, and to suggest a type of relationship or social status between individuals or groups of people coming in contact with each other. While greeting customs are highly culture- and situation-specific and may change within a culture depending on social status and relationship, they exist in all known human cultures. Greetings can be expressed both audibly and physically, and often involve a combination of the two. This topic excludes military and ceremonial salutes but includes rituals other than gestures." -from Wikipedia

This concept of analyzing mornings came out of greeting the sun, and all the different ways people around the world greet the morning. Sometimes we shun it. Sometimes we embrace it. Sometimes we wake up late and want to start over. My mornings have been slow and blurry as of late. I'm tired. And not inspired. But within each morning is still a glimmer of possibility....
-I could do a project from How to be an Explorer of the World!
-I could make new bean salads!
-I could kiss my children!

Good Morning from Kanye

"on this day we become legendary"

Stand the Pain

"Brother stand the pain; Escape the poison of your impulses. The sky will bow to your beauty, if you do. Learn to light the candle. Rise with the sun. Turn away from the cave of your sleeping. That way a thorn expands to a rose. A particular glows with the universal."

-Mevlana Rumi

Seize Life

"At six in the morning they're next to my bed ready to seize life."

-Louis C.K., referring to his two daughters

Taeao

Taeao is morning in the Samoan language. You can also say Talofa lava as a good morning greeting in Samoan. Which gets us to another way to start a day. Look up one word or phrase from a language you want to learn every morning. Maybe you took Spanish for years in school but never spoke it. Use five minutes in the beginning of the day to say good morning (buenos dias) and walk through the rest of your day feeling like an integral part of the world community, like the words of hundreds of languages are right on the tip of our tongues, like in a blink of an eye we can communicate to someone halfway around the globe, like the same morning sun we see rising up from a blue sky is the one that sinks down in the lower hemisphere of the planet. We're all watching the same stars, and drinking water that is 4 billion years old....

Talofa lava. Talofa lava. Talofa lava.

A Return

Grateful I waken

my soul returns inside the

bounds of the body

-Debby Bruck


I think the haiku form is a perfect way to capture some mornings. I've been thinking about what represents a morning. A birth? Rebirth? In this haiku by Debby Bruck I love the way a morning becomes a return. Like you're sleeping and in a dreamlike haze and when you wake up your soul jumps right back (or forward) into place. Like the soul takes a break too.

And while it's on break, it allows your subconscious to wander, spreading your thoughts into dreams about ones who have passed away, or surreal landscapes, or thousands of other images.

A Morning List: Food

On a semi-regular basis I will post up morning lists- either by myself or guests. Lists that you go to bed thinking about. Lists that you wake up thinking about. Lists that pop into your head as soon as the sun tickles your eyes.

Here's today's:

Foods I wanna make for breakfast/brunch (that I still haven't):

-bread
-my own vegan bacon
-my own vegan sausages
-chutneys
-lots o' muffins that I haven't tried baking yet
-blueberry pie
-different variations of vegan french toast
-veganized noodle soups that are traditional breakfast foods in some Asian countries
-barley tea ( A Korean recipe)

What have you been craving lately?

Joy

Found on a bumper sticker in the Mt. Airy neighborhood: Don't postpone joy. I'm waking up, buying ice cream sandwiches for the little ones, dreaming about recipes for new kinds of salads, seeing the possibilities hiding in the corner of the room, not crying today about old fights, cuz who wants to sit home and cry? I can't postpone joy today. We might not be here tomorrow.

What would your life look like if you woke up and didn't postpone joy?

Misty Morning by Bob Marley

"I want you to straighten out my tomorrow..."



Misty morning, don't see no sun
I know you're out there somewhere, having fun
There is one mystery, I just can't express
To give your more, to receive your less
One of my good friend said, in a reggae rhythm,
Don't jump in the water, if you can't swim
The power of philosophy, floats thru my head
You're light like a feather
Light like a feather, heavy as lead

The time has come, I want you
I want you to straighten out my tomorrow
I want, I want, I want
I want you to straighten out my tomorrow

Misty morning, don't see no sun
I know you're out there somewhere, having fun
Mysteries, I just can't express
How could you ever give more, to receive your less
Like my good friend said, in a reggae rhythm
You can't jump in the water, if you can't swim

I want you, I want you to straighten out my today
My tomorrow, I want you to straighten out my tomorrow

On a misty morning, I want you to straighten out my
Tomorrow, I want you to straighten out my tomorrow

Inaugural Poem

Inaugural Poem by Maya Angelou 20 January 1993
(Remember this one? When Bill Clinton became our president? When Maya Angelou said good morning to the entire world? When a poem became a symbol of hope? Good morning!)

A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since departed,
Marked the mastodon.
The dinosaur, who left dry tokens
Of their sojourn here
On our planet floor,
Any broad alarm of their hastening doom
Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages.

But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,
Come, you may stand upon my
Back and face your distant destiny,
But seek no haven in my shadow.

I will give you no more hiding place down here.

You, created only a little lower than
The angels, have crouched too long in
The bruising darkness,
Have lain too long
Face down in ignorance.

Your mouths spilling words
Armed for slaughter.

The Rock cries out today, you may stand on me,
But do not hide your face.

Across the wall of the world,
A River sings a beautiful song,
Come rest here by my side.

Each of you a bordered country,
Delicate and strangely made proud,
Yet thrusting perpetually under siege.

Your armed struggles for profit
Have left collars of waste upon
My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.

Yet, today I call you to my riverside,
If you will study war no more. Come,

Clad in peace and I will sing the songs
The Creator gave to me when I and the
Tree and the stone were one.

Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your
Brow and when you yet knew you still
Knew nothing.

The River sings and sings on.

There is a true yearning to respond to
The singing River and the wise Rock.

So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew
The African and Native American, the Sioux,
The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek
The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,
The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,
The privileged, the homeless, the Teacher.
They hear. They all hear
The speaking of the Tree.

Today, the first and last of every Tree
Speaks to humankind. Come to me, here beside the River.

Plant yourself beside me, here beside the River.

Each of you, descendant of some passed
On traveller, has been paid for.

You, who gave me my first name, you
Pawnee, Apache and Seneca, you
Cherokee Nation, who rested with me, then
Forced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of
Other seekers--desperate for gain,
Starving for gold.

You, the Turk, the Swede, the German, the Scot ...
You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought
Sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare
Praying for a dream.

Here, root yourselves beside me.

I am the Tree planted by the River,
Which will not be moved.

I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree
I am yours--your Passages have been paid.

Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
For this bright morning dawning for you.

History, despite its wrenching pain,
Cannot be unlived, and if faced
With courage, need not be lived again.

Lift up your eyes upon
The day breaking for you.

Give birth again
To the dream.

Women, children, men,
Take it into the palms of your hands.

Mold it into the shape of your most
Private need. Sculpt it into
The image of your most public self.
Lift up your hearts
Each new hour holds new chances
For new beginnings.

Do not be wedded forever
To fear, yoked eternally
To brutishness.

The horizon leans forward,
Offering you space to place new steps of change.
Here, on the pulse of this fine day
You may have the courage
To look up and out upon me, the
Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.

No less to Midas than the mendicant.

No less to you now than the mastodon then.

Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister's eyes, into
Your brother's face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope
Good morning.

Open the Windows

Here's simplicity- start the day by opening the window. This wonderful little nugget was tipped off to me by this personal development blog. Whether it's raining or chilly, sunny or cloudy, open up those windows. Take a deep breath. Breathe in everything. It could be the essence of the city or the country. Open up your senses and your indoor environment to what is all around you. I'll be going around opening everything, because I know I don't want to close myself off to any opportunities. Word.

Morning Has Broken- It's a Classic, Yall

Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the word

Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall, on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God's recreation of the new day.

1976 is the year I was born. Here is Cat Stevens singing about morning the same year. It will never get old. But I will!

Bring it, Hafiz

Like The Morning Breeze

Like the morning breeze, if you bring to the morning good deeds,
The rose of our desire will open and bloom.

Go forward, and make advances down this road of love;
In forward motion, the pain is great.

To beg at the door of the Winehouse is a wonderful alchemy.
If you practice this, soon you will be converting dust into gold.

O heart, if only once you experience the light of purity,
Like a laughing candle, you can abandon the life you live in your head.

But if you are still yearning for cheap wine and a beautiful face,
Don't go out looking for an enlightened job.

Hafiz, if you are listening to this good advice,
The road of Love and its enrichment are right around the curve.

-Hafiz

I am on a complete and utter Hafiz kick right now and I do not think this is a bad thing. His poetry is nourishing to my spirit in the morning, afternoon, and night, but that's not all that impresses me. The more poetry I read by him, no matter who is translating, the more I realize how completely grounded he was as well. While being totally in love with God and creation, he realized he was imperfect and learning every day... and that's okay! His subtle sense of humor and down to earth approach to spirituality really speaks to me. Waking up every morning and trying to move forward with good deeds can be so difficult in this world sometimes. Our society is set up to distract us from the pure and simple beauty all around us. "The life you live in your head?" That's me, not focusing on what is right in front of me, imagining what's to come. Hafiz is reminding himself and the world that every morning, love is right around the corner. So go drink your coffee and let's do this thing.

All That Exists

Quote to meditate on this morning:

"All that exists in the universe must also exist in the individual body."

This is a tenet in tantric thought and philosophy. The microcosm and the macrocosm united. The interconnection of everything. What an overwhelming and beautiful thought. Imagine if we think about this for just 30 seconds or so every morning. All our movements, thoughts, chemical composition is in the entire universe. Would we think twice about judging ourselves, about judging the person walking down the street besides us? Would it become easier to let go? Would we change? Would all our changes, all our shifts, then change and shift the universe? And I'm saying yes. Yes it would.

The Morning Salat

"Just a Sliver of Promise Shy of Being Full"

It was still dark, only the babies sleeping, when the villagers of Ein Hod prepared to perform the morning salat, the first of five daily prayers. The moon hung low, like a buckle fastening earth and sky, just a sliver of promise shy of being full. Waking limbs stretched, water spashed away sleep, hopeful eyes widened, Wudu, the ritual cleansing before salat, sent murmurs of the shehadeh into the morning fog, as hundreds of whispers proclaimed the oneness of Allah and service to his prophet Mohammad. Today they prayed outdoors and with particular reverence because it was the start of the olive harvest. Best to climb the rocky hills with a clean conscience in such an important occasion.

Thus and so, by the predawn orchestra of small lives, crickets and stirring birds - and soon, roosters- the villagers cast moon shadows from their prayers rugs. Most simply asked for forgiveness of their sins, some prayed an extra rukaa. In one way of another, each said, "My lord Allah let Your will be done this day. My submission and gratitude is Yours," before setting off westward toward the groves, stepping high to avoid the snags of cactus.

-from Mornings in Jenin by Susan Abulhawa

Angels

III. NATURE.
XVIII.
Angels in the early morning
May be seen the dews among,
Stooping, plucking, smiling, flying:
Do the buds to them belong?
Angels when the sun is hottest
May be seen the sands among,
Stooping, plucking, sighing, flying;
Parched the flowers they bear along.

-Emily Dickinson

p.s. Hey Emily, it is blazing hot here in Philadelphia, the sun is baking the concrete and I'm just trying to get inspired to finish the laundry. I want to go back to bed. But maybe there's an angel peeking behind the cherry tree in our backyard, almost blooming! And one next to the neighbor's front gate, and besides the bus stop. Oh maybe I'm having sun-induced hallucinations. Whatever it may be, it's real in the most angel-like sense, waiting , waiting, waiting for us to wake up and sweat the day away.

Memorial

memorial [mɪˈmɔːrɪəl]
-adj

1. serving to preserve the memory of the dead or a past event
2. of or involving memory

This morning I remember you. Today and yesterday and tomorrow I remember you. You hung on a railroad track to stay alive. You drove a taxi. You took trapeze classes. You did fire dancing. You bathed in hot springs. You wrote poetry.

Keep going.

What do you do when you wake up most mornings and think, "Well, it's all been done before. No one needs to hear any words from little ol' me. I am not insightful. I have nothing to add to the realm of the universe" ? You keep going.



"Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can't move
Awake but cannot open my eyes
And the weight is crushing down on my lungs
I know I can't breathe
And hope someone will save me this time
And your mother's still callin you insane and high
Swearin it's different this time
And you tell her to give in to the demons that possess her
That god never blessed her insides
Then you hang up the phone and feel badly for upsetting things
Crawl back into bed to dream of a time
When your heart was open wide and you love things just because
Like the sick and dying

And sometimes when you're on
You're really fuckin on
And your friends they sing along
And they love you
But the lows are so extreme
That the good seems fuckin cheap
And it teases you for weeks in its absence
But you'll fight and you'll make it through
You'll fake it if you have to
And you'll show up for work with a smile
You'll be better
And You'll be smarter
And More grown up and a better daughter or son
And a real good friend
And you'll be awake
You'll be alert
You'll be positive though it hurts
And you'll laugh and embrace all your friends
And you'll be a real good listener
You'll be honest
You'll be brave
You'll be handsome and you'll be beautiful
You'll be happy

Your ship may be comin in
You're weak but not givin in
To the cries and the wails of the valley below
And your ship may be comin in
You're weak but not givin in
And you'll fight it you'll go out fightin all of em"
-"A Better Son/Daughter" , Rilo Kiley

Being Real

"It's all raw material for waking up. You can use numbers, mushiness, and self-pity even - it doesn't matter what it is - as long as you can go deeper, underneath the story line. That's where you connect with what it is to be human, and that's where the joy and well-being come from - from the sense of being real and seeing realness in others."

-Pema Chodron, from Start Where You Are: A Guide to Compassionate Living.

I will take the self-pity and the sadness, the fun-filled moments and the stressful screaming and just wake up with the real.


From urbandictionary.com:

2." keeping it real"

Staying true to yourself, your faith, your life and constantly seeking the truth.

You are keeping it real as long as you do not harm yourself or anyone around you physically mentally or spiritually.

You try to benefit the environment and society that surrounds you and eventually serving humanity for the greater good.

By keeping it real you are authentic and do not follow the geopolitical or corporate economic norm, but you strive to develop a norm that is centered on peace, truth, and unity.

Responsible for the Sunrise

Definition of "Marriage"
-------------------------------------------------------

My mother said to me, "Your father likes to think he is personally responsible for the sunrise. He thinks that if he didn't stand in front of the window every morning and supervise, the sun would never come up. What he doesn't know, " she went on to say, "is that he couldn't do any of it if I didn't get up first and make the coffee and open the curtains."

For the longest time that was the definition of "marriage" to me.

-Abigail Thomas, from Safekeeping: Some True Stories From a Life.

Meditation

Listen to the pleasant British man. In less than ten minutes, this could erase any lingering effects of last night's tv-watching coma after fighting with a male ego.

Couscous

I'm experimenting with different kinds of grains in the morning, beyond the old standby of oatmeal, cream of wheat, and boxed cereals.I know throughout the world folks are eating noodles, crepes, tortillas, and all kinds of other bread products for breakfast.

One quick idea is couscous. It takes such a small amount of time to make a big pot of couscous, especially the smaller grain couscous. I made a big pot yesterday and left it in the fridge. For a savory person like me olive oil, Bragg's, and even some hot sauce to the couscous is a good seasoning mix. I sliced up some cucumbers, salted them, and with toast on the side I had breakfast. I found a lot of couscous recipes for breakfast that were sweet- mostly involving nuts, dates, raisins, and adding some kind of cream to make the dish a little bit like a hot sweet cereal. I'm feeding a vegan family and also trying to invoke some of the world cultures that eat couscous regularly like Morocco and other parts of North Africa. For my sweet version, I would add a little bit of rice milk, some plump golden raisins(that had been soaked just a little while), a little cumin, maple syrup, and maybe throw in some shredded coconut I have in my fridge leftover from a wonderful Easter brunch(thanks, mom!). Yum. Think global. And then buy your non-local ingredients from local businesses!

morning-chant-11 songs

music @ dhingana.com

Pick a Random Book

Start a morning like this: Go to one of your bookshelves and pick a random book. Well, maybe not too random- make it a book you like. Open the book and point to a randomly selected page. Use that as a meditation of what you need today or what to reason and think about. Here's mine, from Soledad Brother: The Prison Letters by George Jackson-

from page 102:

"...I stay busy, all of the time. I never have enough time to do the things that I must. I have made inroads into political economy, geography, forms of government, anthropology, archaeology, and the basics of three languages, and when I can get a hold of them some of the works on urban guerilla warfare......

I must now start doing all that is humanly possible to get out of prison. I can see great ill forecast for me if I can't find some way to extract myself from these people's control. ... I don't mind dying but I'd like to have the opportunity to fight back. Take care, George."

Sunrise by Mary Oliver

Sunrise
---------


You can
die for it --
an idea,
or the world. People

have done so,
brilliantly,
letting
their small bodies be bound

to the stake,
creating
an unforgettable
fury of light. But

this morning,
climbing the familiar hills
in the familiar
fabric of dawn, I thought

of China,
and India
and Europe, and I thought
how the sun

blazes
for everyone just
so joyfully
as it rises

under the lashes
of my own eyes, and I thought
I am so many!
What is my name?

What is the name
of the deep breath I would take
over and over
for all of us? Call it

whatever you want, it is
happiness, it is another one
of the ways to enter
fire.

~ Mary Oliver ~

Inspiration Profile: Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz

On a semi-regular basis I'll offer a little post on someone contemporary or historical who provides some sort of inspiration to me on any given morning. It can be their actions, the way they lived their life, a story about them, the art they produced, or just a small piece of information about them that can somehow shape a day. The themes will vary. The people could be uber-famous or live on my block. Either way, they're helping me.

Case in point- Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz. If the phrase "rebel nun of the 17th century" is used to describe her I already know I'm feeling it. I found her as I was searching for more contemporary Latin-American/South-American women writers. She was raised by an illiterate mother who had six children and never married. She learned to read early, had an aversion to marriage and a calling to religion. She became a nun AND an intellectual. She was reading and writing and speaking the truth that no one dared in those days especially a woman and a nun. Her studies and intellectual pursuits were constantly put down from the church and society. Her poetry is famous is Latin America.

I found this paragraph in Wikipedia about her especially interesting-

"In her time, the convent was the only refuge in which a female could properly attend to education of her mind, spirit, body and soul.

Nonetheless, Sor Juana wrote literature centered on freedom. In her poem Redondillas she defends a woman's right to be respected as a human being. In Hombres necios (Stubborn men), she criticizes the sexism of the society of her time, poking fun at and revealing the hypocrisy of men who publicly condemn prostitutes, yet privately pay women to perform on them what they have just said is an abomination to God. Sor Juana asks the sharp question in this age-old matter of the purity/whoredom split found in base male mentality: "Who sins more, she who sins for pay? Or he who pays for sin?""

My morning inspiration: Speak the truth. Live out loud. St. Ines de la Cruz, a nun in the 17th century who was surrounded by a society who called people heretics if they talked about science or even murdered them, continued to write letters, poetry, essays and continued to seek knowledge. I can speak my truth in modern day Amerikkka.

Vegan Scones

Too tired to make waffle batter? Not enough patience to flip pancakes? Try making the excellent basic vegan recipe of scones from the Vegan with a Vengeance cookbook by Isa Chandra Moscowitz. Isa's cookbooks are probably my favorite vegan cookbooks ever. She's got great recipes, easy directions, and they really come out fantastic. She also has a ton of breakfast/brunch recipes. My mate describes these as "sweet biscuits". I tend towards a savory taste in the morning, and this is one of the main reasons I'm so interested in international breakfast cuisines which are full of savory dishes Americans don't touch in the morn. He tends toward sweet baked goods, including cookies. Sweet or savory, scones are pretty fast, fill you up, and you can do a bunch of varieties.

Are you a sweet or a savory person in the morning?

Shachar (Morning Light)

From the daily prayers of the Jewish tradition, comes Shacharit- the morning prayers done ideally during the first three to four hours of the day, from shachar which means morning light.

Part of the morning prayers is the Shema Israel- "(or Sh'ma Yisroel or just Shema) (Hebrew: שְׁמַע יִשְׂרָאֵל‎; "Hear, [O] Israel") are the first two words of a section of the Torah (Hebrew Bible) that is a centerpiece of the morning and evening Jewish prayer services."

Hear, O Israel: the LORD our God, the LORD is one.
And thou shalt love the LORD thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might.


Sounds like ONE LOVE to me. It's also quoted in Christianity. To me, you can believe or not believe in God but every morning realize that there is oneness connecting us all that can't be denied. That could feel overwhelming or reassuring or something else entirely. But for me, it makes me realize I'm not just responsible for myself. I'm responsible for every living thing on this planet, as we all are, because we're all connected.

Soundtrack of the Morning

Current song that inspires me in the morning:

"Jump Up" by Dan Zanes
----------------------------

"jump up day is breaking
jump up let's get shaking
i know you're lying down
jump up and we'll dance around

jump up bells are ringing
and i hear friends are singing
oh yea, it's a crazy sound
jump up and we'll dance around

jump up stand on your tip toes
reach out grab a rainbow
turn it upside down
jump up and we'll dance it around

jump up clouds are passing
look up the sky is laughing
i know we'll be laughing too
jump up i want to dance with you

jump up you know i love you
that's right i love love love you
a new day is shining down
jump up and we'll dance around"

-Dan Zanes

What is your current soundtrack for a good morning?

Synchronicity and the Alba

Synchronicity is always an interesting phenomenon when it happens. For example, the day I chose to begin this blog and write the introduction was March 28th, which happened to be Byrd Baylor's birthday, the author of the book that inspired me to explore ways to start the day in the first place.

Another example of synchronicity? When a little poetic form called the alba was introduced to me at a poetry reading last week. As I sat and mused about mornings and writing, rituals and chants, all of a sudden the featured reader caught my attention once again as he explained an alba, which literally means sunrise. It's a very old Provencal poetic form from the medieval times. It's poetry that's meant to be read at dawn. It's a love song, a troubadour's call, words of longing after spending the night with a forbidden love. It could involve a guard warning the lovers or the jealous rival. Who knew I would stumble upon this poetic history once I opened my mind to the beginnings of a day?

Alba
---------------------
As cool as the pale wet leaves
of lily-of-the-valley
She lay beside me in the dawn.

-Ezra Pound

Greet the Sun

Greetings,

I'm exploring all aspects of the morning!

From my introduction page:

Introducing The Way to Start a Day. As I did a spring cleaning of the creative corners of my house, I found a list of 100 things I wanted to do with my life that I made a few years ago. On the list- create a zine focusing on the beginning of the day. What people eat around the world, rituals that take place in the morning, sounds, sights, tastes, touches, smells, movement and chants, the prayers of monks and priestesses and gurus and sadhus, and the stories of ordinary people everywhere as they welcome the day. Whether you are hungover with too many beers from last night to waking up at dawn and doing sun salutations, I am interested in it all. The idea began and is based on the book The Way to Start a Day by Byrd Baylor, that so eloquently describes people from all over the world waking up and giving thanks for the day. So I humbly offer this online version of a zine, hoping to capture the power of a morning. You can start all over again every day.

The way to start a day is this- Go outside and face the east and greet the sun with some kind of blessing or chant or song that you made yourself and keep for early morning. -Byrd Baylor

I want your stories! Please contact me with anecdotes, diatribes, ideas, pictures, prayers, rituals, or anything else related to mornings and the beginning of a day! Email me: thewaytostartaday(at)gmail.com.