I’m sitting in my garden. It’s early morning, and I lift my face as an offering to the sun. I love the warmth of the sun on my face. I’ve been told that sitting in early morning sun is good for you, so I’m doing it.  I hear the wind rustle, making the leaves dance. I feel the breeze on my skin and watch how the sunlight filters through the trees, making shadows dance across my arms like some coded message.

The Japanese have a word for this: “komorebi,” or sunlight filtering through trees. There is no equivalent word in English. How is it that we have no word devoted to moments as beautiful as this?  There should be one,.

I’m not always open to these moments. I sometimes turn away when I find the beauty of this world unbearable — what we humans are doing to it and to each other. Letting moments like these in can break your heart in half.

It can also break your heart wide open. And when that happens, I remember how fleeting this life is, and how lucky I am to be here.

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This month’s poem is “Komorebi,” by Eliot York. I haven’t included a writing practice this time but rather an invitation to experience a moment of komorebi for yourself.

Komorebi  by Eliot York

we saw the sun through the trees

and found something in ourselves

From the June 24 newsletter. To sign up, here’s the link.