WHAT IS MORNING PRACTICE?
Today, many high-performance coaches recommend an early morning practice before beginning a day full of whatever is on our to-do list. They write books on the importance of taking time in the morning before anything else to center themselves and awaken to our world.
In the sixth century, Desert ‘Mothers and Fathers’ (a term for monastics) would hunker away in their caves or tents, or wherever they took shelter and check their to-do list. I wonder what might have been on their list?
Get up and stretch.
Fetch water. Carry wood.
Sit and contemplate the moment.
Get up and stretch.
Go to bed.
All facetiousness aside, these early monastics give us an example of how to appreciate little things with awe through the practice of awareness. From their lives given to meditation, prayer, and writing, we have some of their words compiled by contemporary scholars.
Monastics model a way of being in the world that offers peace to the soul and nourishment to the mind. One anthology I recommend is by Christine Valters Paintner. I know Christine to be a woman of great depth and committed practice.
In Desert Mothers and Fathers – Early Christian Wisdom Sayings she writes a short commentary on many of the better-known sayings.
WHO HAS A MORNING PRACTICE?
Whether you follow Michael Hyatt, a high-performance entrepreneur, Jesus, or Mohammed, they all have one thing in common–A committed spiritual practice to mark the beginning of their day. They take dedicated time to be alone, sit by a fire, candle, or before the rising sun, often with sacred objects to help focus their hearts and minds. Jesus often went to the back side of the mountain to be alone to pray.
I like to draw apart in a room by myself, light a candle, and wait for the sun to rise. Others find the solitude they need on a wooded path or out in a rowboat on a calm lake.
WHAT DOES A MORNING PRACTICE
LOOK LIKE TODAY?
In the 21st century, taking time to connect with one’s inner being has been called meditation, contemplation, Lectio Divina, devotions, prayer, or just ‘sitting.’ Go to “How to Know if You Are A Contemplative” to learn more bout a contemplative life.
And the reason we call it ‘practice’ is that it is never perfect or complete, but is consistent, repetitive, and often solitary.
We have all experienced some kinds of practice in our lives. We (most of us) brush our teeth every night and turn out the lights before going to bed. We may have learned to play the piano or football or speak in public by practicing with a ball or before a mirror every day until we gained the skills we need.
Our minds and bodies become progressively more responsive and focused towards a specific goal the more often we repeat an action. Soon we become expert at brushing our teeth and pretty darn good at sinking baskets on the court.
But what are we doing for our spirit? That’s the part of us that gets hungry; the part Dunkin’ Donuts can’t fill (although I never seem to give up trying.)
A PRACTICE FOR LIFE AND DEATH
Spirit (some people call it soul) is the part of us that existed before we were born and goes somewhere when we die, but no one can tell us for sure where that is.
Researchers have studied personality traits present at birth, but they can’t tell us where they came from beyond genetic or womb influence. Whether we ‘practiced’ for our birth, we will never know for sure, though there are exciting ideas on this subject. (Perhaps a topic for another post?)
We do, however, practice for death. Some intentionally, some unaware.
Many people’ practice’ for their death through religious traditions that are consistent and repetitive, and use objects or bodily movements in symbolic ways.
Many of these practices focus on prayers, music, rites, and rituals, towards preparation for ‘the beyond.’ Whether what waits for us is called heaven, nirvana, or an abyss – death will always be an unknown that has shaped religious practices since the beginning of civilization.
It is typical for members of a religious congregation or community to ‘practice’ once a week. Then it is as much a social practice as a religious one, equally crucial on many levels.
A PERSONAL PRACTICE
I don’t remember when I first began my early morning time of solitude and centering prayer. It may have been an awkward reading of ‘devotions’ prescribed by my faith tradition.
This did not last long or become consistent. Nor did it feed my soul.
I find that reading and study are great for the mind but indigestible to a hungry spirit. (My mind already has more to chew on than I can manage in this lifetime.)
I can trace my current early morning practice to a very bleak and desolate time when, due to illness, I could not access my thinking mind. Nor could I focus on anything for very long.
Someone introduced me to meditation, explaining that there was no goal. Just sit quietly and observe. I was to imagine myself in a moving stream, letting all my thoughts flow on past.
It didn’t come easily, as I splashed about in a torrent of ideas, trying to contain them for just a moment. One little thought might be profound. How am I to remember if I don’t stop and write it down?!
After years of centering prayer (similar to meditation), ‘Let it go’ is an automatic response for me. Whenever a thought threatens to steal my stillness, I repeat “Let it go” and watch it go downstream in a current of never-ending ideas.
As I stand in the stream, the waters flowing about me hold more than thoughts, however. They also hold feelings. Sometimes icy cold and very uncomfortable. Sometimes slimy and icky from standing in a place of stillness long enough to allow feelings to grow.
A practice of just sitting can be unpleasant. For a while. Until, at some point, I no longer feel the icy water, the current dies down to a trickle, and I can begin to feel the warmth of the sun I hadn’t noticed before.
HOW TO BEGIN
If you have never had a morning practice, the simplest way to begin is to do as little as you need to be comfortable, whether that is a shower, a cup of coffee, or letting the dog out.
Then, find a chair or stool that allows you to sit erect, set a timer on your cell phone for 5 minutes…or 1 minute. The length doesn’t matter in the beginning. Making it a habit is more important, so choose a period that you can manage, and just sit.
When thoughts arise, let them go. You may imagine them in a stream, or a rising tide of smoke, or flying away like a bird.
The challenge is not to call them back.
The goal is NOT to stop thinking because the brain cannot physically do that.
Ideally, you will let go of all goals. If you are not seeking to relax, or to feel better or grow, you can reach a place of sacred emptiness and stillness.
It isn’t easy, and at the same time, it is a state of total ease. As your sitting practice becomes habitual, you may want to add two or three items from nature or with personal meaning. These will hold many of your thoughts so you won’t have to.
The best way to begin is just to begin. Tomorrow morning might be the best time.
