Reading “Ordinary Mysticism” by Mirabai Starr
I find the presence of the sacred hidden in my aching bones when I have to push myself a little farther past my comfort zone. I am reminded I am alive.
I find the presence of the sacred as I walk, an obligation, yes…but also a gift. I move on familiar paths and marvel that I came together as this particular collection of cells, at least for now.
I also feel the sacred flowing through tingling fingers as I create. It is an openness that simply keeps me moving.
I feel the sacred in the hard moments, but also in the soft. Like asking the kids about how their day was, laying down for a daily nap because I respect this body enough to know rest is vital.
Although I can feel imperfect on my path, ultimately I believe the sacred meets me in the trying. I am forever in a state of reaching toward the unknowable mystery: my fingers imagine grasping the hem of its cloak…but remember that not knowing is beauty too. I breathe, my chest rises. the day is promising but also cold. I have shelter and warmth and unending love, even if only for this brief moment.
For more writing on where I meet the sacred, check out my recent essay in Fieldwren Journal: available here
I just started it, but go grab a copy of “Ordinary Mysticism: Your Life as Sacred Ground” by Mirabai Starr. Let me know what you think.
Starmoth Press 