A Sunwash

Posted on January 12, 2008


Even though it’s early January and I had a tiny bit of ice on my windshield this morning, the coffee and sunlight are keeping me plenty warm.

I know I’m crazy for getting up at 7:30 on a Saturday morning, but it’s days like these that I feel so incredibly alive. I leave the house about a half-hour after sunrise and go to my favorite coffee shop. I spend the first hours of the morning writing, drinking coffee, and watching the city wake up.

Mornings like these bring me clarity. I have nothing to do today until much later on so I can just relax, enjoy the mint and espresso in my drink and read and write until my heart is full to bursting.

I don’t know what it is exactly. There’s just something about mornings like these.

This morning I can feel the blood running through my veins. I can feel the bones in my arms. I can feel the sunlight pouring in through the window wash across my retinas. I can feel my heart pumping under the skin of my chest.

The morning air is fresh and is a reminder that today is brand new. Opportunities sit at the next table, are walking down the street, and are on the sidewalk across town.

It won’t again until much later in the day, but for right now the sun is cascading through the windows and filling the coffee shop with warmth and light.

These are the days I feel like I could change the world. The days when redemption and beauty and warmth are tangible things. Days when friends who are on the other side of the country and the other side of the world don’t feel so far away.

These are the days when I feel like I could rope down the sun, put it into my pocket and take it and show it to those who are still in the darkness. I want to place it into the hands of those who are physically and emotionally freezing to death so they can receive the warmth through their fingertips.