The word sacred has been on my radar a lot in recent weeks. One day in June, I read the word in a daily affirmation passage from a book I love.
“With the best of intentions, we often build false careers of studying the river without ever getting wet. In this way, we can ponder great philosophy without ever telling the truth, or analyze our pain without ever feeling it, or study holy places without ever making where we live sacred.”
Although I’ve owned this book since 2021 and read it on a daily basis, I didn’t consider myself to have truly read this paragraph until now. I must have skimmed in the past. The last line motivated me to look up the definition of sacred on my phone and take a screenshot of it.
Since the pandemic began, my home has evolved into a place of refuge for my family and for me. It was more of a gradual transition than an abrupt about-face. I’ve always enjoyed the act of decorating my home, but up until the year 2020, I never felt like it truly reflected who I am.
It reflected a style I liked, which I may have seen in a magazine or design show at the time. Or maybe it reflected a fashionable style that I believed I should appreciate.
Because I had no concept of who I really was before 2020.
My soul homework was not my doing. It came to me, and if I had told you that in 2020, you would have thought I was abducted by aliens. But you’ve known me long enough that I can be honest with you.
On the inside, I now feel safe, protected, and healthy. This is reflected in both our home and my blog. Our home and my blog have both become sacred spaces for me. The first is an external sacred space, while the second is an internal sacred space.
For the sake of this post, I will talk about my external sacred space, our home.
Mike and I have been debating whether or not to take a trip this summer. We had the funds, and because we hadn’t taken a vacation since before the pandemic, we almost felt obligated to do so.
Shouldn’t we go somewhere?
We’d sit on the daybed in our backyard, our dogs on our laps, and look around at locations other than our sacred space, trying to figure out where to go. But nothing was impressing us.
We laid in the hammocks with the leaves above us swaying in the breeze, the sounds of music from the neighbors all around us from cultures everywhere imaginable, and tried to figure out where to go. But nothing sounded interesting.
Then one day, I told Mike, “I’m not interested in going anywhere. Anna doesn’t have time off. Ella has plans with all of her friends, and we live in a place where we can visit destinations in a single day. We also have all of this” as I gestured my hands around our home and our yard. Everything around me appeared to be beautiful, as if I were already on vacation.
Isn’t this paradise too?
Don’t get me wrong: I want to travel to places I’ve never been (most of which are outside of the country where I presently live), but for the time being, I’m content to stay where I am, which brings me a lot of peace. I’m not saying this to prove that I’m a better person; I’m saying it to prove to myself that I’m finally content with where I am. I’m not in a situation where I need to escape. For many years, I was.
I found a book called Your Sacred Self (there’s that word again) in the library (without looking for it), and the author writes that when you have heightened self awareness:
“By focusing your inner energy on the beauty that surrounds you, you will receive that energy from your surroundings. With practice, this kind of receptiveness will become a source of strength and sustenance in your daily life.”
I hope that everyone of us can establish sacred spaces in our daily lives so that every day seems like a vacation. This is my heartfelt desire for all of you.❤️