Facing the Goddess of Dawn, Eos, at Dawn

In Greek mythology, the offspring of the god of light, Hyperion, and the goddess of the sky, Theia, are a son and two daughters: the sun god Helios, the moon goddess Selene, and the goddess of dawn, Eos. Helios rides a chariot drawn by four horses, rising from the east at dawn and setting in the west in the evening, repeating this journey each day. Selene, driving a silver chariot led by black horses, raises the curtain of night. Eos, steering a golden chariot drawn by two winged horses, daily removes the night's veil set by Selene with her fingers. Though Eos's task may seem less significant, she plays a crucial role in transforming night into morning and darkness into light.

 

During a hospitalization that lasted half a year due to a traffic accident, I couldn't sleep properly throughout. The hospital, adhering to its principle of treating rather than providing rest, kept patients awake at night. Frequent tests, midnight X-rays, washing the body at night, and room cleaning mostly occurred after midnight. Alarms from monitoring devices signaling abnormalities, along with the nurses' bustling footsteps during each episode, disturbed peaceful sleep. In such an environment, coupled with the excruciating pain without painkillers and incessant coughing, nights became a torment. To prevent choking, I had to rely on nurses to extract phlegm, and the process of supplying liquid food through a tube connected to the stomach took hours, making it difficult to avoid late-night motor noises and persistent hunger.

 

Consequently, every night was agonizing, with intermittent and often sleepless hours. Sometimes nurses, not satisfied with the lack of sleep, applied further pressure, and doctors were even consulted to administer sleeping pills, turning it into a routine of treating illness with medication. One day, yearning for Grieg's first composition, 'Morning Mood,' which depicts the emotions felt upon witnessing the sunrise in Morocco during his voyages, I decided that upon recovery, I would greet each day by listening to it. The refreshing portrayal of the Moroccan coast, with the morning dawn spreading gently along the horizon, offered a glimpse of hope, making me believe I could live again.

 

At that moment, I made two resolutions. First, "Once discharged, I will start each morning by listening to 'Morning Mood' splendidly." Second, ‘If I survive, I will immediately go to the seaside and watch the sunrise.’" However, after being discharged, I forgot the promise, even after listening to the music a couple of times. It wasn't until my recovery that I went to the seaside and felt overwhelmed witnessing the sunrise. A few days ago, when a friend of mine sent a sunrise photo from the New Jersey shore, the overwhelming emotion I felt watching the sunrise for the first time after discharge seemed to revive.

 

As I age, I often find myself unable to sleep deeply, waking up in the middle of the night these days. If I wake up tomorrow dawn, I must greet the long-lost 'Morning Mood' while facing the Goddess Eos.

 

(July 2, 2020)