For a few weeks now, I’ve watched the dawn break. My bedroom window faces the perfect northeast to watch the entire sky lighten, through purples, blues, and greens, until the first stripes of white appear before the orange glow of the sunrise. And, though I have not yet gone to sleep, it is at sunrise that I have been dovening my morning prayers. Somewhere between 4:30 and 5am, the city still quiet. On the weekends, the partyers have stopped their loud drunken walks home. And on weekdays, the traffic of morning commuters has yet to commence. It’s a beautiful, quiet time to stop and reflect as I wind the leather straps around my arm and hand. To soak in the brightening sky, the warming currents that come in through my open window, as I take note of the trees across the street, now fully leafed again, and slowly inhale in preparation for slowly exhaling the Sh’ma.
It’s a perfect contrast to autumn, when the air was cool and damp, the trees moulted, and we reminded ourselves during the Amidah that the wind and the rain was wanted and necessary.
I should be waking up, saying good morning, and dovening. But these days, with my sleeping pattern off and the beauty of the sky and the seasons, the ritual of my morning prayers calms me down and, if I’m lucky, allows me to finally close my eyes.
Filed under: judaism, seasons, sleep/insomnia
