Rolling over, we stretch our arms outward, as if our hands release all of our dreams like wishes in the cool morning air.

Flexing our toes, we feel our kitten pounce on the blankets.

She bats our toes until we remain still, so she gets bored, jumping off the bed. We flex our toes, again, this time with ease.

Opening our eyes, we focus on a painting—the one with a salmon swimming upriver, so the rainbow colors blend and bend with the waves. Find a tiny fleck of yellow on the salmon’s tail, and stare, knowing that soon the spot of yellow will blur into one mixture of blues and lavenders.

Refocus on the small stream of sunshine coming through a crack in the blind, noticing our phone where we left it on the nightstand, but ignore the treasure chest of messages, images and stories. The words can wait, first we must awake.

Softly hum.

Let the sound flow through our dry lips. Chant: Om Mani Padme Hum. Om Mani Padme Hum. Om Mani Padme Hum.

Allow ourselves to awake just as if we were coming out of Savasana, slowly.

Linger in our breaths between the silky space of dream time and the beckoning day: recall our dreams, roll back the images of our sleep story, see what our subconscious tried to unravel as our body slept, curled around pillows or our lover, maybe one arm around each.

Awake as if we are butterflies coming out of our chrysalis—fluttering one damp wing through the shell until we emerge whole. Wings will warm, and we’ll take flight, but first—remember—we create the world we want to fly through today—choose one of lightness and love.

 

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Editor: Travis May

Image: Pixoto/Kume Bryant