Holding the Space...
Sitting here alone on my deck I am in ecstasy? It's ninety degrees plus. The car died last week, the fridge yesterday. I suspect a scorpion bit my heel a day ago which benched me, instantly. Yet velvet caring holds me.
Why don't I feel lonely? I have in the past. Family and close friends are four thousand miles away and have been for two months. I should be lonely. However, their presence and love are palpable in this warm evening breeze.
The Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Hanh takes a few monks with him as he travels to speaking occasions. When asked why, he explains, "in order to hold the space." Sacred space. My few monks -- family and friends -- with their invisible presence holds mine.
Does my cousin know she is a sacred space holder, does my grandchild, does the difficult neighbor? Do I hold this space for others? The coyotes are beginning their night song from the river. The evening is cooling as the sun slips behind the mesquite tree. The car, the fridge will be fixed, the scorpion bite healed. Next time on the deck, maybe I whisper, "Thank you."