Fwd: Morning Has Broken
Jeffrey Angelson
Date: Sat, May 30, 2026 at 6:22 AM
Subject: Morning Has Broken
To: <jeffan...@gmail.com>
Rumi
Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about. Ideas, language, even the phrase ‘each other’ doesn’t make any sense.”
I’ve been sitting with this quote lately, especially the phrase:
“The world is too full to talk about.”
What would the morning be like without immediately putting it into words?
Not permanently. Just for a few moments.
Before naming.
Before remembering.
Before planning.
Before the story of “me” and “my day” begins.
Just seeing.
Just hearing.
Just feeling.
The taste of coffee.
The sound of birds.
The warmth of sunlight.
The movement of breath.
I’ve found that this is possible.
Not as a special state. Not as an achievement. Simply by allowing experience to be experienced before it is turned into thought.
And something interesting happens.
The morning feels more alive.
More immediate.
More intimate.
Thought still appears, but it is no longer the center of everything.
This brings to mind Wei Wu Wei and his description of action without a doer.
Not in the sense of becoming passive, but in the sense that life is already moving before thought arrives to claim ownership of it.
Walking happens.
Breathing happens.
Listening happens.
Living happens.
Perhaps this is why the phrase “Silence Speaks” has always resonated with me.
Not because silence literally speaks, but because there is a kind of knowing that exists before words.
A knowing found in seeing.
In hearing.
In feeling.
In simply being present for what is here.
I’ve also noticed that beginning the day this way sets a different tone.
There is less rushing to conclusions.
Less immediately deciding what the day means.
More openness.
More curiosity.
More willingness to say yes to what is being offered.
Not passive acceptance, but a readiness to meet life rather than defend against it.
The day feels less like something to manage and more like something to participate in.
The thoughts return.
The responsibilities return.
The conversations return.
Yet a quiet intimacy with life can continue underneath it all.
Maybe this is what alignment feels like.
Not getting somewhere.
Not attaining something.
Just moving with life before thought turns it into a problem to solve.
Opening to the day.
Opening to possibility.
Just wondering.