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Growing up a vanilla Methodist, the word sanctuary simply meant that place in church where the minister would drone on and on forever. It’s where I sang in the choir – a mostly social event for me – took communion, and sat on hard benches waiting for the day when I could make my own decisions. Like not going to church anymore and eating all the ice cream I wanted whenever I wanted.

Today sanctuary is less a physical location and more of an internal home. Having moved away from organized religion, I was ironically able to find a deeper connection to the Big What Is, God, the Universe, Consciousness through nature, travel, breath, yoga and meditation. Not necessarily in that order and sometimes all at once.

It’s a long and circuitous story, but the bottom line is, I can find sanctuary almost anywhere. And as a chronic wanderer, this is extremely helpful.

Some of my favorite opportunities to visit my sanctuary include:

  • Meditating on the banks of the Ganges at dawn while boisterous families dip in the frigid waters.
  • High over the Atlantic Ocean during stomach-dropping turbulence.
  • While listening with love to negative people or those stuck in their story.
  • Sitting along on the edge of the Florida wetlands taking in the abundance of nature, the bellow of a nearby gator and the patience of a heron stalking a fish.

My sanctuary is portable. I will still forget that, longing instead to be alone when overwhelmed with too much activity or feeling lonely and wanting to be among friends. But as soon as I draw in a deep, conscious breath and close my eyes, the doors to the sanctum of my being open wide and I am invited in.

Daily Prompt: Sanctuary


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