Even as a child I knew the sacredness of personal space. I remember going behind my grandmother's house to a place where I could hide behind tall weeds. I would sit for hours in my circle of stones. That space was so special I never revealed it to even my closest playmates... Sacred spaces can be created anywhere. When I felt a need for a sacred simplicity within my city home, on a sudden inspiration, I emptied a closet and painted it white. Within this purified space, I placed a stone, a leaf, a bowl of water and a sitting cloth from the Amazon -- things special to me at that moment. I had created my own sacred space.
What is my word, what is human wisdom
but a noise that reaches the outer ear?
But from that ear to the heart lies a road
that only God can travel.
Blessed are you who do not put your trust
in the noise of your own words,
even though they come wrapped in great
human wisdom.