When I think of “Sacred Space” I think of it more in the abstract. I can be sitting in my living room in my comfy cozy chair or, like I am right now, writing this on my Kindle as I walk on my treadmill.
I think for me my space becomes sacred when I need to write something. I don’t like to be interrupted as I can lose my train of thought just like the snap of my fingers.
Sometimes I’m so engrossed in what I’m doing that others my try to talk to me but I don’t heat them as my mind has been turned off to everything except for what I’m doing.
I think back to before Mari died and I didn’t really have this. I mean, I wrote in my diary every now and then but that is different from what I do now. I write things I post to Mari’s sir. I have been writing a memoir about Mari and working on my fiction writing. I love going inside myself to find just the right words to write or what I need to edit.
The amazing part to all of this is that something beautiful did come out of the worst tragedy of my life. To lose a child, a young child you’re still raising, is the worst thing that can happen in a person’s life. Yet God gave me the gift of writing that when I share it with others the words somehow connect with others. I mean, how special is that. I have been truly blessed. I thank the Lord for this gift he has bestowed upon me.
So no matter where I’m at my “sacred space” is always there when I need it.