Space for Wonder


In that envelope of time when I just wake up, eyes still closed on the edge of sleep, I am in my special time when I ask questions, see images and tiptoe around, carefully maneuvering around my sleeping ego. I don’t want to wake her just yet as she’s all about schedules and customs, timelines and to-do lists.


I have a small chair in this space where I can sit in silence, take my time, breathe in clarity and be with those that support me beyond the veil. This is truly my place where I am always welcomed, sated with images, wisdom and comfort beyond the body.


I found this special place not by exploring, but by falling into despair. Day after day, year after year I woke to deep inner sorrow. As awareness dawned every morning, the veil of darkness descended. Before rising out of bed I was laden with heavy sadness weighing down my energy.


I coped for years lugging around my unresolved problems and despair. I side-stepped my anger and ignored the small whispering thoughts. I sought therapy and listened to their words. I circled around the advice, always landing on my despair. Until the day I decided enough.


Every day is a new beginning. Every morning holds that moment when my unconscious meets my conscious mind and thinking starts. With curiosity, I began nudging open that space between the unconscious and thinking mind and discovered the envelope.


I learned this in between space is much like when I sit in silence. My ego is less in control and my imagination is free to explore, to fly and create beyond expectations.


The transitional state between awake to sleep is termed the hypnagogic state. I contend this transition exists the other way as well, between sleep and waking.


I jumped on the chance to explore this space hoping it would make a difference for me. I began by using music setting it up to turn on about the time I stirred. I estimated around five o’clock or so. The music was upbeat. I think I used an oldies CD.


What initially happened was I woke to the words and music playing in my head. I created a distraction. I kept up this practice until I became bored with it. Next step I changed the music and kept going with that until I became bored.


I believe I nudged my mind away from the habit of sadness and distracted it with music. It helped.


I am my own advocate. I take action to help my discomfort.


I have learned this envelope of time is an easy time to ask for help. I experienced access to my Higher Power in this transitional state and using music helped ease my mind.


I believe the veil is thin during this period. I can have conversations with my spirit team. I ask for clarity and support and guidance.


This morning, my agenda was the same. On cue as I stirred, I saw a beautiful colorful parrot and the word “wonder” accompanying it.


I thought I would write about wonder this morning, along with awe and beauty for the incredible colors and creations in nature.


As I sat with this inspiration with Google looking at images of parrots, I realize the true wonder is in finding this envelope of time, and creating this special space where I am in awe of the support, guidance and comfort having discovered a room of my own.


Participants' Reflections:


  • Thank you. I love doing dream work. I woke up from a dream about Paris which has always been a place of magic and wonder for me, and where I go in my dreams and daydreams as a reward, as a place of beauty. Last night, in my dream, I was lost in Paris without anything but my clothes. I had no ID, money, phone. It was scary because there was this underbelly to Paris in my dream where people at risk could be kidnapped and enslaved and tortured. I haven’t examined it yet. I know it has to do with my shadow side. Dreams are so revealing.

  • The envelope is that space of time between from when I’m sleeping to when I’m waking. It’s a little slit and it reminds me of an envelope that I can nudge open.

  • I love the envelope. It’s like a threshold. I too had a dream last night. I recorded what I could remember and entitled it Launching Pad. I have a fresh appreciation of where I live. Where I sit for meditation gives me a view of my birdbath and feeder and things. My response to you having wonder at the parrot is you wondering at your many colors and your potential to fly and ability to speak. That was really rich. Right when you were reading about the parrot, there was a rufus-sided towhee at my birdbath. I had never seen that bird until I lived here and I love seeing it in different parts of my yard. I wrote this: “Rufus-sided towhee, blend of black, ruse, and white, scooching in the underbrush for food, exploring.”

  • Thank you. The time you’re talking about has long been a wonderful part of my life. Since I was very little, sunrise was magic for me. To me, that moment is just before sunrise. I often ask questions just before I go to sleep. The answers are there in the morning when I awake. I often say I need to sleep on that whenever I have a big decision. Often it is helpful. Thank you for holding that up. It’s been an important part of my life as well.

  • I believe it’s a place where we access our wisdom, while our minds are occupied by sleeping.

  • The gratefulness.org word for the day this morning is a quote from Alice Walker: “The more I wonder, the more I love.” And that phrase at the end of your reading “a room of my own” is from Virginia Woolf. I have that space before my spouse is up, and it’s me and my cat. Her being is part of my peace in the room. It’s that quiet and unconditional love that I feel coming both ways. A place to treasure.

  • Thank you for that. That was beautiful. It was a reminder to me that a lot of times in the morning, I get a little clairaudient. I always write it down; sometimes it’s not even in English. I think about it for about ten minutes, and then I don’t give it much regard the rest of the time. I have a notebook full of those. It’s that ego voice that labels it nothing, don’t pay attention to that. So thank you, I’m going to be paying more attention.

  • I got caught up in side-stepping anger today. I was trying to concentrate on everything else which was so lovely, but the anger was still there. I’m realizing how long I’ve been side-stepping it. I’m trying to be aware of that. So it’s a transitional space for me.

  • One of the prompts I use when I’m feeling anger is to take pen to paper and write the sentence “I am angry at…” and let flow out. When you come to an end, do it again “I am angry at…”. Do it again and again until the pages are filled. I’ve filled a lot of paper doing that.

  • Thank you. That’s a great idea. I’m feeling it and the words that came to me during the meditation is if I express my anger, there will be an environmental disaster. It feels bigger than me.

  • Thank you. You apologized for not having a poem today. I’m glad you didn’t because it made your reading richer for me. In terms of that morning time, I cherish it. I haven’t been able to use it in recent weeks to really care for myself because my head is flooded with what I have to do and the transition of moving. I spent the time creating a way to stay with myself. That was very positive and meaningful to me.

  • Thank you so much. I just loved the thoughts about early morning time. Ever since I heard Judith Orloff talk about that morning state, I’ve tried to use it. I do a lot of writing using that state because ideas are happening without ego attached. I can hear connections and see the bigger picture and other things. I love that space. I use it also in the shower where the water is changing my energy state and clearing me. I get out of my ego and consciousness and into this reverie. It’s an important aspect of our brains. It's what Thomas Alva Edison used to find answers to his engineering questions.

  • Judith Orloff is a psychiatrist and a psychic medium. She’s written a book The Empath’s Survival Guide. It’s so helpful for anyone who is supersensitive. It helped me understand how much I pick up outside of myself and she gives tools so that I’m not bombarded all the time.

  • When you mentioned despair, I feel that all the time. My cat is fifteen years old, his time is coming soon. Animal lovers know it’s heart-wrenching. My son rescued this cat. I’m feel the weight of despair.

  • It’s another threshold of letting go.

  • Thank you for the authenticity this group emanates as we share our silence, as we share our reflections and as we share our space together. I wish you all gentleness in whatever path your direction takes you today, always knowing there is another morning to begin by finding a moment of ease and comfort. Have a good day.