I am a morning person. I have been one most of my adult life. A sense of FOMO builds on the rare days when I sleep in.  

But the time when this habit strikes me as odd is when I’m on vacation. You’d think when the distractions of home, work, and life in general are gone, my body would choose to wait until the Sun rises before getting out of bed. No such luck. 

As I write this, I’m on holidays, celebrating our 10th wedding anniversary, in Kauai and O’ahu. The clock is showing 5:52 am. I’ve been awake, Hawaiian coffee in hand, for an hour or so. We have been here for three full days – four mornings – and each one has seen me rise before the Sun. The first day or two I’ll attribute to jet lag. But now, I’m not so sure.  

This early morning rising caused me to reflect on other ‘coastal’ holidays I’ve been on in the past. I’m blessed and privileged because over the years, there have been many.  And, often, I rise before the Sun. If I’m lucky enough to be able to see the Sun rise over the water, I’ll sit still and watch. I’ve concluded that there is a particular energy I connect to strongly that is only symbolically available along a coastline at sunrise.  

Now a coastline has always been a magical place for me. I come from a long, long line of fisherman in my paternal family. My grandfather was a lobster fisherman. My father worked for him until he moved to Toronto.  I am the first in what is likely 10 generations to have never worked, at some point, on the open water. I did spend every summer of my youth along Canada’s Acadian Coast. Water is in my blood – figuratively and literally! 

I’ve always been acutely aware that the coastline is a special place where the element of Water meets the element of Earth. But there is a time, roughly eight minutes in length, from the time the disk of the Sun breaches the threshold of the horizon until the last remnants of the fiery orb are fully visible, when Fire, Air, Water and Earth initially mingle to start their daytime journey together. For the remainder of daylight, all four elements are present. At the end of that time, after sunset, they are no longer all visible. 

I find that period at sunrise, that place and space where all four elements meet for the first time each day, to be magical, almost cathartic. I feel called. I feel noticed. When I catch that time… that space, I feel a sense of balance that’s unique. It feels empowering. It reminds me of how important the four elements are to me. They are the basis of any magical work I do. A depiction of each element is ever-present on my altar. I always incorporate them into any Tarot work, alone or with a client.  

It took an early morning writing session at a space only several metres from the coast, at a time only moments from the sunrise, to put this reflection into words.  

Morning light at Kapaa

It truly is a magical time of the day. I think I’ll go and grab a Tarot deck and do a little work. (I mean, who doesn’t travel with at least one deck! – I have three with me.) 🙂

Is there a time of day where you feel the magic of the elements?

Leave a Reply