Tag Archives: sacred space

Why Did I Wait So Long?


Just moving right along
with plans to organize this house,
donating the old dining room table and chairs
that have been collecting dust
and cobwebs in the basement,
jettisoning the janky third hand furniture
my neighbors gave me when they moved;
creating space.
As each thing leaves my house
I feel a little lighter,
a little freer.
Why did I wait so long to let go?

I Let Go


The earth waking up all around me
The breeze stirring all the young leaves
and blossoms of every tree.
People cheerful and happy
Light everywhere,
No matter how faithfully
I may have been clinging
to old skeletons,
When spring comes
I’m given hope
that the willingness to die
really does mean
a beautiful rebirth,
and somehow,
I let go.

Prayers Work


Every day,
when I sit down meditate,
I light a candle
and I invoke the Archangels.
I pray to them to help me
see what needs to be seen
hear what needs to be heard
do what needs to be done
speak what needs to be spoken
release what needs to be released
receive what needs to be received.

Today a human angel showed up
to help me clear some old stuff
from my house
and make room for the new
Already my house and my soul
are breathing easier.
Do you see?
Prayers work.

NaPoWriMo 2017 Day 25: Sacred Space


It was a space
A sacred space
My sacred space.
It was small,
the size of a closet
with a low ceiling
and a window.
A friend painted the walls
plum tinged with gold
And being in there
never grew old.
My cushion,
an essential oil diffuser
a bell
my mala
some Tibetan prayer flags
my little Dharma Desk
and I was set for hours.
You can’t take space with you,
so I left my room behind
when we moved to our new house.
I don’t have my own space now,
all of it is shared.
Sometimes I miss that sacred space,
my sacred space.
But not having my own space
has taught me something too;
it isn’t the space itself that is sacred,
it’s the intention I bring to it.
So if I am in a sacred space within myself,
all spaces outside of myself are sacred.
In the end, it is all sacred space.

My Soul Comes Knocking


Waking up early
to have time to sit in quiet
the whole day takes on a
sacred tone.
I have a simple breakfast,
write in my journal for a while.
Now I am ready.
My practices prepare me
to open my mind and my heart
just as my eyes open
upon awakening from sleep.
Every time I sit,
it’s as if my soul comes knocking
and now I finally know where the door is
to let it in.

As Long as I Sit: A Story About Cat Pee and Non-Attachment


Meditation space defiled.
Cat urine on my cushions
on my blankets
on my handmade prayer shawl
that I knitted from a blend
of wool and silk
dyed by hand
in rich shades of peach and raspberry.

I didn’t react.
I simply acted.
I put the blankets in the wash
along with my pants
that had become soaked with cat pee
when I sat down to my evening practice.

I hand washed my prayer shawl in the sink
and hung it to dry in the laundry room.
I unzipped my zafu cover, removed the inner cushion,
dumped out the buckwheat hull and lavender filling,
and my husband took my large rectangular cushion to the laundromat.

And here is what this experience
teaches me about non-attachment:
I am not my cushion.
I am not my blankets.
I am not my prayer shawl.
By keeping this in mind,
I didn’t need to become emotional,
and stomp around blaming
our 17 year old cat
for managing to piss in my sacred space.

If something gets dirty, clean it.

Along with my previous assertion
that it doesn’t matter where I sit,
now I can also add
It doesn’t matter on what I sit,
as long as I sit.


And on a side note, I really, really REALLY miss my meditation room at our old house, where I successfully prevented my cushions and blankets from being urinated upon for over three years.

Communal Meditation Space is Taking Shape


The communal meditation space
had begun to take shape–
a clean white rug,
a few inspirational objects,
my cushion
plus another cushion
I had purchased and used
before I acquired my current one.

My daughter liked the idea
of a meditation space.
She brought some of her favorite toys:
a winged pegasus, a winged pig,
a few stones, a sparkly puff ball with eyes.
I hung my Tibetan prayer flags in the window
and allowed her
to take some of my crystals down
to hold and observe.

She sat on my cushion,
and deeply absorbed
in her magical world
she quietly arranged affirmation cards,
a peacock feather,
a singing bowl.

Yes, I thought,
this meditation space is taking shape.

Then, while I was making a snack
for myself and the kids,
my daughter peed her pants
right on my meditation cushion.

She came out and let me know about it,
and ran to change her pants.

I am not the woman I once was.
That woman would’ve screamed in frustration,
stomped, yelled,
felt resentful,
felt betrayed.
But I am not that woman anymore.

Thanks to my practice,
I saw a child who had forgotten herself,
and a cushion that needed to be cleaned.

I stripped the cover off of the cushion,
put it in the wash with her pee pants,
washed my hands,
went back to making the snack.

Yes, the communal meditation space
is really taking shape.

It Doesn’t Matter Where I Sit


The piles of
the stuff we had moved
during our move
that hadn’t yet
been put away
in our new home
were weighing heavily
on my mind and heart and soul–
and they were just looking terrible,
sitting there, doing nothing,
out in plain sight.

I was wanting a bright
to create a place to sit with my family
and perhaps share
a moment of meditation.

This morning,
I said,
Okay now,
let’s just do this,
and I began moving the stuff.
I moved the piles out of my chosen corner.
I vacuumed, mopped,
and felt full of hope and promise
as I surveyed the luminous space.

Then lunch,
and things went downhill from there.
Both kids were fussy, needy,
vocal, pushy with each other,
whiny to me.

By mid afternoon I was losing it
and by bedtime
I could barely contain my fury.
I was just glad my husband came home.
Glad to take a shower.

The consecration of
my chosen space will wait
for tomorrow.
Tonight I sit in the makeshift space
in my bedroom
right by my closet doors.
Earplugs, hat pulled over my eyes,
old kitty caterwauling,
none of this matters.
It doesn’t matter where I sit.
I just matters that I sit.



Through the force of sheer will,
some processing,
and the simple passage of time,
I adapt to this new reality.

Today I thought,
If I can’t have my very own meditation space,
might as well create a communal one.

Maybe I can create a simple little spot
in a corner of the family room
with some inspiring images,
my singing bowl,
my cushion,
and maybe I will make it so inviting
that my children will sit with me.

Even if they sat for just a minute,
it would be so sweet to share
that space with them.

Still Looking


Still looking.
I moved my cushion to a spot in my bedroom today,
but it didn’t feel quite right,
the curtains slung over their rods
so they wouldn’t brush against me
as I sat.
It just didn’t feel quite right,
with the window ledge
poking the back of my neck.
And then there was the cat
who with the precision of a Swiss watch
began his caterwauling the minute I sat,
the second I closed my eyes in meditation.
I tell myself to let go, to adapt,
but it has only been 10 days since the move
and I still miss having my own space.
I tell myself
If I can adapt,
if I can keep good humor
and gracefully let go of the past,
I’ll come out stronger than
I ever knew I could be.