As a kid, my stepdad got up at o-dark -30 to go hunting during season. I think of him often in the wee hours as I am up in my practice. I am hunting that which feeds my soul.
With my window open last night, cool moist air entered my room. I slept in — all the way until 420. I revel in the slow turning in my life ever toward the One. Perhaps It has been hunting me.
What feeds your soul? Are you willing to get up early to hunt for it? Ki to Happiness hunts what hunts us.