Holding pause and space to ponder

I am an early riser.  Of course that is all relative.  My son rises one to two hours earlier than I, and my partner arises about one to two hours later than I.  I guess I am a mid-early riser?! It is a joy for me to be awake before the first lights in the dawn give their indication of a new day.

The first thing I do after my morning potty stop is to look out the window.  I live near Lake Koshkonong in southern Wisconsin, and I have the immense pleasure of viewing the sunrise over the lake.  What glory!  What breathtaking beauty – to be witnessed nearly every day. Of course, even when it cannot be seen, something behind my eyes sees and feels it inside.  I guess it rises, as do I, at least for the time being - every morning.

The last couple of days the cloud cover has been thick. Before the sun ever peeks its face above the edge of the horizon, the glow of anticipation appears.  Like a river of hot lava oozing and ever-expanding, the colors change right before my eyes and the birds sing.  And sing.  And sing some more!

Viewing these last few days took me back to early days when I remember hearing biblical scripture read from Genesis 1: “the earth was complete chaos, and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light. Later God said, ‘Let there be an expanse in the midst of

the waters, and let it separate the waters from the waters.’ As a child, I heard this with wonder and curiosity, and maybe a bit of woowoo – you know – magic! Amazement! But I always got a bit stuck on the word expanse or as other translations say “dome.” Yet today, that was my first thought upon seeing the swath of color along the horizon - as if there is an

expanse above, an expanse below, and one in-between the two.

I wonder if God creates space in-between? In-between the wonder of birth and the uncertainties of death? I wonder about the expanse in-between where so often I seem to live, and maybe you do too. Between knowing and not knowing. Between yes and no. Between right and wrong. Between now and then, yesterday and tomorrow.

So often, when I watch the sunrise – as soon as it appears, I, along with others turn away and head back – to the comfort of our morning tea, the warmth of our car, or just to head another direction. I’ve made those decisions, to start a new job, commit to marriage, put a new color on the wall, chop down the dead tree and move on… Today, though, I am noticing

the expanses – especially the one in-between – where life is most often lived in the here and now.

Maybe God creates space – spaciousness. Like the Japanese practice of Ma in gardens and in life. As one docent from Anderson Japanese Gardens in Rockford informed us, the idea of Ma is an opening to space and light, which invites growth and movement. It has been described as a “pause in time.” It is a space between the words, the musical notes, the

activity of the day. Between every breath we take. In the idea of Ma the individual creates space for flourishing, not only for themselves to grow, but for life around them. In this expanse we live in balance and harmony, with our eyes drawn to see with amazement, wonder, and curiousity what occurs without any help from us.

For this moment, I am pausing to create Ma, to notice my heartbeat, my cat’s ears, the face at the coffee shop, the rock of my rocking chair… I for one, hope to make life choices and flourish in the spaciousness of the expanse in-between – where I realize my place in the world, and how it cannot be separated from everyone and everything in this large expanse of human/divine life.