Home alone this morning was excited about making banana pancakes and pouring real maple syrup, from my tiny ceramic pitcher, on their fluffy tops. When they were finished, I sat at the kitchen counter with the newspaper and my pancakes. I took the first bite with my head bent toward the front page. And then I noticed the morning light edging across the countertop. There was holy light beside me. I felt anointed.
Few things soothe your body like the morning light. It is buttery and soft, spiritual and cleansing. While taking photographs of ceramic bowls for my home goods business, I began paying more attention to the sun’s rays, how they moved across our dining table throughout the day. How the light poured into my bedroom in the afternoon. The most stunning moments happen on sunny mornings in our kitchen at 9:30. The sun lights up the surface of the counter so that the corner of the kitchen becomes a chapel, a place with the power to heal. You sit in the space and wonder how the light of the morning sun has such power. The gentle but intense glow feels like an angel and an answer. In this particular light, the feeling of peace is everywhere it shines.
If I make a practice of sitting with the sun at 9:30, my days will be lighter. But I rarely do. I forget to pause because my to-do list is now in charge of my head. I’m more likely to wipe the countertop than see the sunlight glowing underneath my sponge.
I work in an office on the first floor of our house. I could set a timer for 9:30 and run into the kitchen when it rings. The sound of the timer would be a slap of ice water, but then I’d see the sun streaming through the kitchen windows. It would be a shock of a different sort. Feelings of awe and wonder strike when I see that sunlight. It looks holy.