I went somewhere sacred last week. I went to the desert. I think the deserts at night might be the still point of the turning world: concentration without elimination, to borrow from Eliot. The stillness of the stars, the softess of the sand, the sound of song and the safety of tender and trustworthy companions were the refreshment my soul needed.
There is space in the silence. Space enough to expand and to hear. And the darkness is dazzling. And people are profoundly mysterious and lovely, especially the people I was with. There was water in this desert; and there were tears.
The mud caves were delightful.
Exploration is delightful.
Dirt is very powdery. I was happily clad with it for most of the trip.
And the flames of corrugated cardboard transported me for a few glorious moments out of Chronos into Kairos.
Thank you for taking us, Father David.
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