NaPoWriMo 2017 Day 25: Sacred Space

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It was a space
A sacred space
My sacred space.
It was small,
the size of a closet
with a low ceiling
and a window.
A friend painted the walls
plum tinged with gold
And being in there
never grew old.
My cushion,
an essential oil diffuser
a bell
my mala
some Tibetan prayer flags
my little Dharma Desk
and I was set for hours.
You can’t take space with you,
so I left my room behind
when we moved to our new house.
I don’t have my own space now,
all of it is shared.
Sometimes I miss that sacred space,
my sacred space.
But not having my own space
has taught me something too;
it isn’t the space itself that is sacred,
it’s the intention I bring to it.
So if I am in a sacred space within myself,
all spaces outside of myself are sacred.
In the end, it is all sacred space.

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