Found Morning

This morning I woke up to the sun sparkling on the snow and pine trees. Finally a winter visit after a strikingly mild fall. I have been teaching for almost two weeks: the teenagers at my son's school, all 22 of them at once, in Denver for the Calligrapher's Guild, and my series here in Boulder called *Absence and Presence*, which I just finished yesterday.

I arrived to teach at Naropa University at sunrise yesterday morning, wanting to gather myself together before class. I was deeply moved by how long I have been coming to this place. I remembered when I first came as a student, thinking I would continue my studies in Buddhism. That is another story, but my formal studies in Buddhism ended and the study of calligraphy, painting and bookmaking began. I could not have imagined myself here now, teaching. When I first came here I knew nothing about calligraphy or art of any kind.

Before my class yesterday I sat down and wrote:

This morning I returned
to the same place.
The crow is hopping and croaking.
The clouds in the east are colored
with the pink newness
of the day.

Now I see that this place
remembers me,
is tending to me.

Unseeing so long, now seen
my blindness dissolves
in tears and sunrise.

Yes yes yes yes
calls the crow.

Here here here here.

I found myself talking to my students about the reciprocal relationship that develops with a place that is tended to. That paying attention and being found belong together. That we could give ourselves permission to say yes, I have something to offer back to this world.

Wishing you all a warm Thanksgiving.

Best regards,