A Quiet Morning, a Pink Sky, and Space to Listen

The Art of Living Well | A Reflection by Sandi Greene

This morning, I was meditating and drinking a warm matcha latte, giving myself time for reflection and introspection.

Then I happened to look out the window.

Soft pink stretched across the sky above downtown Salt Lake City. The mountains rested along the horizon, and lights still glowed in the buildings below. Inside, my Buddha sat in silhouette, surrounded by the gentle light of candles.

I paused to take this photograph.

I wanted to remember the morning—the view, the stillness, and how it felt to be here, with nowhere else I needed to put my attention.

Listening with kindness

Quiet mornings give me room to hear what can get lost when my days become full.

What am I feeling? What matters to me today? Is there something I’m holding that I’m ready to release?

I’m learning to ask those questions gently.

There have been times when looking inward became another way to put pressure on myself. I could examine a feeling from every angle, searching for an explanation or trying to decide what I should do about it.

Now, I’m practicing allowing a feeling to be present before asking anything more of it.

Sometimes clarity comes. Sometimes I simply become aware that I need rest, patience, or a little tenderness toward myself.

That awareness is useful, too.

Looking up

This morning, looking outside brought a welcome spaciousness to my reflection.

My attention moved from my thoughts to the colors in the sky. I noticed the meeting of mountains and city, the familiar objects on my windowsill, the light surrounding my Buddha.

There was so much here to appreciate.

The questions in my life could remain open while I enjoyed my morning. I could feel grateful without having everything settled.

That is something I want to keep practicing: making room for beauty in the middle of an unfolding life.

Something to carry into the day

I cannot hold on to the color of this morning’s sky. Even as I watched, it was changing.

But I can carry the experience with me.

I can pause before rushing into the next thing. I can listen more closely. I can notice when reflection becomes pressure and offer myself a gentler question.

Perhaps today that question is simply:

What is here for me to appreciate?

This morning, my answer was close at hand: a warm matcha latte, a quiet place to sit, and a beautiful sky outside my window.

With love,

Sandi
The Art of Living Well
/https://sandigreene.com/