A New Year In Bulgaria

It was cold at first. The air had little teeth, and no amount of clothing would stop my own teeth from chattering. All looked empty to me, and stark.

But how each day became a fuller, friendlier blossom than the last...

I looked for the rising sun from breakfast on our last morning, but the trees hid him. I had packed my shawl and wore only a sheer sari and little sandals. I stepped out, folding my arms tightly, my bare toes cringing instinctively, but the assault never came; the air was bright and mild.

Following the grand but overgrown stone stairway down to the sea, one tree replaced another in concealing the sun. Amongst the statues and distant birdsong I felt I had stepped into a fable.

I found myself at the edge of the sand, marvelling anew at the sufficiency of my summer clothing. The sun drizzled light like an enormous spoon of honey, his smile changing constantly beneath the cloud. The sea waves were little tremors of joy and anticipation.

My lookout was on a broad stone disc, lined with columns. Above lay a stone circle framing only endless sky, augmenting the blue as if through a lens. The softness, purity, warmth, perfection, all voices in a vast Song of God.

Outer events in this 3-week sojourn melted into one fine stream of gratitude. The unseasonal transformation in the weather seemed a perfect echo of my own inner transformation, via the daily presence of my Spiritual Master, Sri Chinmoy.