to be in sacred place

the past week has been spent with beloved friends in the Northwoods of Wisconsin, in their sacred places.

places that bring them into oneness with life.

places that restore, regenerate, renew.

places of quiet.

places, sacred. places, home.

places of thin.

places of wild.

places of the heart, of the soul.

now…

i sit in the airport and feel the sacredness of this place, too. here, at the G20 gate in the Minneapolis airport.

here, as the gate announces flight delays and the couple beside me fusses over travel plans. here.

which brings me into the question of what makes a place sacred?

…

i am imagining a world in which where ever we are, with whomever we are, there is a sense of sacred.

where all is holy.

including here, at gate G20.

…

let us begin by knowing

our own bodies as holy temples.

our own hearts as cathedrals, including all in their worship.

our eyes, stain-glassed windows that cast radiant light into all we see—inner and outer.

our breath, the endless and involuntary flow of life that touches the depths of all recesses—inner and outer—with divinity.

may we come to know each moment of this sweet, sweet life on this beautiful earth as sacred.

because, after all...

we are.