Circus Before Prayers

Gradient lavender as sky at 6 a.m. I hesitate to let the dog out when I smell an unhappy nearby skunk. An envelope of mist carries news of the day. A small orphan rabbit named “Bun-Bun” lets me know a good grass cutting is past due. Kora has never killed or even caught an animal but she does give Bun-Bun a good chase on a daily basis. This is the morning circus before prayers.

Maya Angelou got me thinking yesterday about how modesty is a learned affectation....and humility, rather, is where it's at. We as women are taught modesty so that we can become smaller, unseen, unheard. We are Eve, leading Adam astray in the glorious garden when we are not modest enough. We are somehow to blame.

She who disappears most, loves most. We are taught to lock ourselves away in order to love well.

Do we love like our mothers or grandmothers do? Do I only have permission to live as fully as they?

Before 7 a.m., any hints of sky disappears and we are back to dove-feathers. Kora insists on walking even though I'd rather pray first. Who gets served first, beloved?

Well, first coffee, but less. Breaking fast at supper. And the continuous work of spiritual re-amalgamation.