For Wednesday, November 11,2015:
“Your sacred space is where you can find yourself again and again.”
If you’ve been on Facebook for any length of time, you’ve probably seen some version of the unattributed meme that reads “I’m homesick for a place I’m not sure even exists — one where my heart is full and my soul is understood.” While this can be true for a physical place — and is likely a universal feeling for most, if not all, of us — I think writers understand it as our sacred space as well. This writer does, anyway.
My writing doesn’t judge me, regardless of what I confess or think. It doesn’t care what I look like, whether I’m dressed in pajamas or evening gown, how much money I have or don’t have, where I live. Unlike me, human that I am, my writing is forgiving and patient.
That place for which we are homesick is easier to find when we write. Sometimes writing is a time of refuge, maybe even protection. It can be a hermitage, a romp in the park, or a toe in the water. It’s our safe place, our place of discovery.
Like almost nowhere else, I can be — and I am — fully and truly myself when I write. I can find again those physical places and people I love and miss even as I make new discoveries, and the sacred process makes me more fully alive, whole, and complete.