Sympatheia
It is 5:20 a.m. on the first day of spring.
5:20 a.m. has become one of my favorite times of the day. Even in the dead of winter.
It arrives after I have layered up, causing the dogs to lose their minds with joy over what is about to happen next. One of them cannot stop barking. I wonder if the neighbors can hear.
We make our way outside. I open the gate on their dog run and release them into the darkness.
On this particular morning, the full “Worm” moon is positively brilliant, rendering my headlamp almost unnecessary. It will be the last full moon of winter.
The barking has stopped as pent up energy is now expended by running, exploring, and sniffing. I mosey along behind. For me, it is a tranquil time of meditation.
Some meditate by sitting in a chair, focusing on an object, or reciting a mantra.
I have discovered that my preferred method is strolling outside for 10 minutes, embraced by the predawn stillness.
Through my study of stoicism I have learned about sympatheia. Marcus Aurelius wrote: “Meditate often on the interconnectedness and mutual interdependence of all things in the universe.”
Staring up at the sky gets me there every single morning.