Small Habits

Weekly wisdom to bring you home in 3 minutes.

A SHORT STORY

As we begin the new year together, I imagine many of you are embarking on new habits and approaching this year through a new lens.

For myself, my mornings have returned to a practice I learned from my teacher, Sivakumar Gurukkal, in India. When Theater Mitu was in residence at NYU Abu Dhabi from 2012–2015, I would often spend my breaks living with him in Kerala. Every morning, he would come to my room around 4:45 AM and simply say one word: “Bathe.”

I would take a quick shower and then meet him on the roof of his home, where we would spend forty-five minutes practicing yoga together before the sunrise.

It was there that I learned about Brahmamuhurta, known in Sanskrit as “the creator’s time.” This practice, which has existed for thousands of years, refers to the period before dawn, a time ancient sages and yogis used for meditation and yoga to connect to the self.

I remember one particular morning when Gurukkal turned to me and said very simply,
“Michael, you must have a personal practice. You must have ritual. If not, your mind will go like this,” he motioned his hand in a wide sine wave, “but if you practice every day, slowly, your mind will go like this,” and he traced a much smaller wave in the air.

I have held those words very close ever since.

And now, as I spend that time again in the pre-dawn hours, I pause, returning to myself and placing my attention gently on my heart. Much like this newsletter does for the two of us, it reminds me that before the world begins asking, we can begin by listening.

What might you hear if you began the day by listening first?

A POEM

“One Day” by David Whyte

One day I will
say
the gift I once had
has been taken,
the place I have
made for myself
belongs to another,
and the words I have sung
are being sung by the ones
I would want.

Then I will be ready
for that voice
and the still silence
in which it arrives.

And if my faith is good
then we’ll meet again
on the road
and we’ll be thirsty,
and stop
and laugh
and drink together again
from the deep well
of things as they are.

Grateful,

Michael