Did you ever wake up slowly from a pleasant dream, remembering all the details and wishing it would never end? That was how I began the morning. Parts of the dream, still vivid in my mind. I was out in nature, a beautiful park that seemed familiar to me, but now in my waking state I can’t pinpoint the location.
The long green meadow grass sway in the mild breeze. Wildflowers open to the early morning light. Deep blue sky with wisps of clouds float overhead. Gravel paths meander through the valley and along the river into a forest of oaks and pines. It’s just past dawn. Stillness. Quiet. Peaceful.
I hear the crunch of tiny pebbles beneath approaching feet. Along the path, my yoga teachers walk toward me. Silent. I open the door to my cabin and inhale the crisp clean air. Donned in sandals, shorts and t-shirt, I join them on their silent journey.
I notice the reds, tans, and grays of boulders tumbled into the valley. Their scars a reminder of the elements of nature. I hear a distant stream, trickling over river rock. I stoop to examine the delicate periwinkle petals of a flower tinier than the nail on my pinky finger. The petals velvety smooth.
We stop in a clearing, sit on the ground, close our eyes and listen. Birds sing. Leaves rustle. Squirrels scamper. The river flows.
I can feel my heart beat and my life force flow freely throughout my body. It feels so good to be alive.
My eyes open to the ceiling fan overhead, the sun streaming on my face through the bedroom window. I smile, welcoming the new day.