Did you notice? Did you feel it? That moment of death that begins today, as we loose one minute of daylight. The sun is now rising one minute later than it did five days ago. It’s lagging behind or slowing its pace in being present and seen on this earth. Or, so it appears from our perspective.
In actuality, we’ve been losing seconds of daylight since the Solstice. But how do we experience these seconds and minutes of loss? Do we take notice of them happening or do we suddenly realize the loss of daylight hours and the return of greater amounts of darkness? Can you pinpoint the month, the day, the hour, the minute, and the second that you begin to notice?
While in meditation this week, I found myself listening to what sounded like the struggling efforts of a fly on its back trying to upright itself. I wondered if this was the beginning sign of death for the fly, as it struggled and tried to wrestle up enough energy to fly on once again. But then my thoughts wandered. Either the fly succeeded in turning over and flew away, I missed the moment of its death, or perhaps the moment of death was just then occurring, because I could no longer hear the sounds of the struggling fly.
But what is death and what is the actual moment of death of something? Is death a specific moment in time or something that happens over time? At what point do we define something as being dead versus alive?
The American-Heritage dictionary refers to death as the act, cause, and manner of dying. Life, however, is described as animated, spirited, and vital, which seems to reflect greater movement than stillness. But how small or large of movement qualifies as an act of life versus death? Are the smaller movements any less significant than the larger movements?
In making our way through life, does it make a difference if we notice the process of dying or if we only notice the sudden occurrence of death? Which way feels better? Which way offers the greatest amount of choice and freedom?
As we follow the sun’s path in relation to the earth and begin experiencing the death of the presence of light, I invite you to notice this moment. Feel that one minute pause before the sun rises and makes its appearance. What does one minute of stillness just before the rising movement feel like? What does it feel like to notice this moment versus any other moment of the day? What effect does the loss of one minute of light have on our collective dream together, as it currently is and will someday be?