Making Space

I continue to learn more and more about what it means to make space, and what happens when I do.

This is my vantage point.

Something happens inside of my soul, and I don’t know what it is or how it works. But I know what it’s not.

It’s not the ritual; it’s not the doctrine.

It’s not who is in charge, who’s in the room, or who’s leading.

All those things are chosen carefully; I am so grateful for the kind generosity of those who plan and print programs, prepare music, arrive early and stay light to light candles and pray. The environment matters, and those who are called to prepare that space do good work, work to which I’m sure they are uniquely called.

But my work is simply showing up. Making space for something to happen in me.

Believing that something will happen in me, if I make space and let time, and silence, and breath, work its way in me.

I do, and it does. Twice a month, these days; this is a spiritual practice that humbles me, settles me, and makes room for something I can’t explain, but is much needed.

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