My grandchild has a special place outside, a large, sturdy box painted by him and his cousins, attached to a smaller one.  He can crawl and sit inside.

We then created another special place with a slightly falling apart cardboard palace, some benches, two chairs, and yoga mats for the top. Two special places, private and not, into which he can crawl in and out.

I was sitting outside in a chair and he was inside one set of boxes, when I meant to say we were each in our special place, but what came out was sacred.  I said, “We are each in our sacred place”, and it felt so right and true.

Though we were each reflecting privately, he in what he calls “his office” and I in my office of nature watching a bird’s chest swell in and out with song, we both were in sacred places shared.

As David Whyte wrote and says: 

The ultimate touchstone of friendship is not improvement, neither of the other nor of the self; the ultimate touchstone is witness, the privilege of having been seen by someone and the equal privilege of being granted the sight of the essence of another…

And there we were, shared essence, witnessed, complete.   

It’s Spring!

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