Easter morning. Rise and rain.
Cloudbursts of sea magic and showers of ocean sighs greet me on this Easter Sunday. I’m in my cozy nest in Santa Barbara, enjoyng rain (gentle), music (birdsong), and hot tea (Irish).
Awhile ago I Skyped with my sister Katie and niece Maggie, whose new best friend is a big purple rabbit. My dear friend Emmylou just called me from the road, on a tour bus filled with band members and dogs. Texts arrive from beloved friends afar.
Later I will connect with friends and share a meal. Now, in the twilight of the holiday, I feel shrouded in silence. The morning now feels empty.
I am alone.
The quiet in the house creeps into my heart, and I find myself traveling down memory lane. I recall Easter’s past. The North Carolina Moravian sunrise services in Old Salem, with the brass band charming the sun from her sleep; Easter egg hunts in Nashville, with the peonies spying near the sidewalk; and Sunday dinners in Iowa at Aunt Ruth’s house, with loved ones who have long since faded from time.
Comforting and familiar, those memories are reflected in the rain that is now falling. There are no tears over what has passed, only raindrops.
In the quietness of my home, I encounter my breath. I listen. Devout sacred breath beckons me to the heart space. In the harbor of my heart, between the waves of inhalations and exhalations, I settle into the haven of the silent pause.
Sheltered between my breaths, I bask in the light of the present moment. I am no longer standing vigil over yesterday. Or am I being tempted by tomorrow. My breath saves me once again, from the depths of past haunts and deaths of future taunts.
Free from the traps of wistfulness, my breath and I waltz to the resurrection of the present moment. Here, the silence sounds like raindrops. Like Maggie’s giggle. Like Emmy’s singing. Like Aunt Ruth’s laughter.
Harmonizing with this moment, echoes from the past fade and reverb from the future clears. I’m no longer deaf to the present. Easter sounds like raindrops. Angel birdsong choirs sing gentle reminders of love everlasting.
In the solitude of my coastal sanctuary, I am completely surrounded by the love of family and friends. There is no separation of here or there; past and future; life and death…when it comes to Love.
Love shines through. Always. Whether it’s breaking through distant miles, rainy mornings, or even the realms of death, love dawns with each breath.
It’s still raining. The house is quiet. Embraced in the stillness of this present moment, I settle into contentment’s arms.
I am not alone. I am All One.
One with Katie, Maggie, Emmy, Aunt Ruth, and many other loved ones in Tucson, Nashville, and Michigan. One with those who have dimmed from time, yet are reflected in the raindrops.
Easter morning rains. Rise and shine.