In the midst of spiritual and emotional exhaustion, it’s easy to question… wtf am I doing here? I’m trying to build a life I desire and a life with purpose. Sometimes that purpose can weigh heavily on our hearts when we can’t see the outcome of how it’s going to support us.

Last night, I had to allow myself to quit and give up for a minute. Even give myself space to question my connection to the Infinite All. It seems like life was easier when I was going through the motions without direction.

My body decided to wake me up this morning before sunrise, so I decided to go check it out since I’m privileged to be staying across the road from the beach currently. It has been mostly cloudy out here, but even before 6 a.m. the beach is filled with Da Nang locals getting in their morning exercise. I laid down my trusty gray mandala tapestry on the sand to meditate and ground into the earth.

As I opened my eyes to take in the morning, I looked to the left and saw the ghostly shape of the Lady Buddha statue on the peninsula, seemingly floating in the cloudy distance. My gaze shifted in front of me, and a tiny orange dot began to open in the clouds. I knew my earlier instinct to wear my velvet Bertha kimono and bring my Marshall speaker was a nudge, timing out so perfectly.

I began to play the Europe ’72 London version of “Morning Dew” performed by the Grateful Dead.

The orange dot grew slightly larger as the sun’s rays expanded above the clouds, creating a deep gold lining. Yet the full form of the orange sun remained partially hidden, as if it were saying, “You don’t have to see it to know it’s there.”

I felt my heart and body surrender to the waves crashing and the sound of Jerry’s guitar washing the loneliness from my heart.

I have arrived in this moment and am humbled to feel this connection to all things.

To be seen by the Divine and held in support.

The pain in my heart — letting go. Releasing.

Walk me out in the morning dew, my honeyWalk me out in the morning dew todayI'll walk you out in the morning dew, my honeyI guess it doesn't really matter anyway

-"Morning Dew” written by Bonnie Dobson

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