What We Show Up For
The sun hasn't yet risen this cold morning.
I walk towards the bay. Maybe I'll catch the light coming up over the small, cold waves.
I take a left down onto a road that looks out over the water. The road doesn't go anywhere, just loops down to the shore and back up to the main street.
But on that short little road, I see two cars. One is at the bottom, one towards the top. Both face the bay.
I glance towards the front seat of the first car. A woman sits there. She sips from a to-go coffee cup. She looks out to the water.
Walking further up, I glance towards the second car. I see a man unfold the local paper over the steering wheel.
They are both here, I realize, to be with the sun as it silently rises over the bay.
And I am struck that they showed up for this. Is it a gift they're giving themselves? A way of saving themselves from the busyness of the world after the sun has risen?
I don't know, won't know. But here they are on a road that goes nowhere, nourishing that underfed part of the soul that cries for beauty, pauses, silences.
Whatever else they show up for today, they will have shown up for this. And I walk with the rising sun feeling the grace of their choice.
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