Saturday, October 11, 2008

Rising In Darkness

Walk location: neighborhood
Time of Walk: early morning
Skies: Clear and breezy
Temperature: 54 degrees
Steps: 6400
iPod: David McCullough's Truman

One of the spiritual disciplines I often employ is the praying of the Daily Office. There are, of course, numerous versions, and over the years I have experimented with the Office from Catholic, Episcopal, Celtic and other traditions. There are two which I most frequent: the Order of St. Luke and www.missionstclare.com [The Mission of St. Clare]. The latter is based on the Book of Common Prayer and includes hymnody (with midi files). It was there that I first learned Rising in Darkness.

I was reminded of that hymn when I awakened on this Saturday morning. In the midst of autumn's glory is the melancholy reminder that each day's sunlight tapers progressively until we reach December 21. This is one of the biggest challenges to my walking pattern because I don't like to walk when it so dark I cannot see anything around me. The ability to enjoy what is around me is half my motivation for getting out and moving. This morning, though, I knew I needed to get out and walk since my week's walking has been hampered.

The first challenge was convincing myself to get out bed to go. There was no temperature inhibiting me, because it was a relatively warm 54 degrees. There was no precipitation holding me back, because we have had several dry days. I had no excuse. I got up and encountered my second challenge: convincing my canine walking partner Gizmo that he should join me. For some reason he is not thrilled about early mornings that require rising in darkness, either, so I had to more than gently encourage him to come with me. Once we left the house, though, we were both in fine form.

One of the benefits of an early morning Saturday walk is that even in town it is nearly solitary. It took us fifteen minutes to meet our first pedestrians, and then they were on the other side of the street. Traffic was limited and little was stirring in the houses we passed by. It was a benefit of an early morning walk.

The day is dawning bright, clear and breezy. It feels like another lovely fall day, the nectar of which I intend to drink repeatedly in anticipation of the brittle chill of winter which will be here all too soon.

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