This
Sky
Where we live
Is no place to lose your wings
So love, love,
Love.
Hafiz
Translated by Daniel Ladinsky
I have a habit of looking up at the night sky before going to bed. If the stars are visible, they seem to multiply in number the longer I linger. If it is overcast, I still pause and gaze into the vastness – occasionally, the clouds will part, revealing the glow of the moon or sparkle of a star. As with so many habits, I’m not sure how this one came about – likely it had its beginnings in my childhood on the Great Plains, where there is a clear and endless view in every direction.
All I know is that each night there is an emotional warmth that seeps into my awareness. There is something comforting in feeling that the sky has been there from the beginning of Earth, billions of years ago, and even with all the comings and goings, the sky is still there. It was here on the day I was born into this realm of togetherness, and will continue its enduring presence long beyond the memory of my existence. No wonder there is the Pawnee wisdom, albeit translated, “it is there our hearts are set, in the expanse of the sky.”
A part of me likes mythologies about the moon and stars. One of my favorites is that the stars are campfires and our ancestors are gathered around the fires, wondering what we’re talking about when we gather around our fires. That one always prompts me to appreciate that hearths have been central to one of the longest standing human habits of gathering around the light and warmth of a fire. It was there that humans seamlessly sustained collective values and shared wisdom.
Only within the last seventy years or so have we human experimented with creating a new habit by changing the gathering site to electronics, e.g., televisions; and, more importantly, replacing the content of what we share from timeless wisdom to information, opinions and skills. As one commentator mentioned, there are signs we are rapidly losing our sense of our humanness, e.g., the rise of fearfulness, loneliness, bitterness, callousness, apathy, greed, and hatefulness along with poverty, joblessness, torture, imprisonment, and ignoring the unhoused. This makes me wonder if our abandonment of the hearth will cause the stars to fade, if not literally, but in our shrunken awareness.
Still, I look upward every night, and to each new- and full-moon, I offer these little reflections entitled “hearth,” where you and others can join me in remembering the timeless voices woven into the everyday moments, such as the rising and setting of the sun, the unfurling of ferns, the frisky joy of dogs, the wildness of coyotes along with poetic voices of saints and sages, all inviting us into the mythological wonder of existence. Today, as I shared this reflection, the glow of the full moon is bathing the hillsides and valleys in a soft, angelic-like radiance. Perhaps some of that light will shine through these words. In any case, I hope the ancestors around the stars are happily gathered and sharing in the wonderment of this timeless story of existence.
Practice
This simple, practice supports awareness of pausing.
Preparation –
- Remove any potential distractions from the space where you are. Turn your phone and any other devices to airplane mode.
- Standing, move your body – shaking your limbs, dancing, stretching, or whatever you feel will support your body in this moment.
- Then, shake out wrists and move your fingers around, e.g., squeezing them tightly into your palm and then letting them stretch apart.
- Then, find a quiet and comfortable place to sit.
Practice –
- Close your eyes and invite awareness of the solidity supporting you from below, and the lightness of the air surrounding you and flowing through your lungs and nostrils.
- If you are on a chair or bench, rest the soles of your feet on the floor.
- Note: your eyes will be covered or closed for the next four steps, so please read through them before continuing.
- Rest your head in your hands by placing the base of your palms over your eyelids and cupping your fingertips upward over forehead and hairline.
- Invite a feeling of easefulness along with the simple gift of taking a pause from ingesting information or news though your eyes and ears.
- Perhaps add a sound of letting go on your exhales, e.g., “aaah,” sighing.
- Stay here for as long as is comfortable.
- When you are ready, release your hands and allow them to rest wherever they are comfortable. If you wish, allow your eyes to settle into beginning to be gently closed, or in a soft-gaze.
- Breathe. Allow your breath to slowing settle into easeful inhalations. Imagine the incoming air is flowing in and touching the entire inner surface of both lungs. And, for your exhalations, allow then to be gentle and easeful. Pause for several seconds at the end of your exhale.
- Once again, pause briefly and rest your head in your hands. Invite appreciation of the vast spaciousness within darkness. Remove your hands from your face.
Transition back into your day –
- Standing, move your arms, beginning to bring them in front of your heart. Then, reach out from your heart-center to about shoulder height. Your arms will be in a “t” position. Twist slowly to the right (with your arms still extended), then to the left. Then, reach your arms overhead. Slowly, return them to your heart center. Pause
- As you do this movement, imagine you are reaching into the abundance and expansiveness of the sky.
- Repeat the above movement with a feeling you are gathering stars in your palms as you reach to the sides, gathering them up and bringing them overhead and then down into your heart-center. Feel free to repeat this, one or two more times.
- When you are ready, slowly transition back into your day.
This verse appears in Mala of Love: 108 Luminous Poems, edited by Ravi Nathwani and Kate Vogt, page 4, published by New World Library. Photo is by Jeremy Thomas. H E A R T H is posted each full and new moon. KateVogt©2026.
Upcoming Class: “Ecological Roots of the Heart” (online). For more information and to register, click on this link and scroll down on the left hand side to the “literature/humanities” category.
