Do you recall the last time you turned your attention toward your Self? Does the idea of “inner space” have meaning for you? ‘The word “sacred”?
I’m sitting down to these wonderings on a day when my own inner space feels like Bilbo’s hobbit hole. It’s the night before a life-altering quest is set to commence, and I’ve been overrun with noisy, messy, bossy, hungry dwarves. They all seem to know something I don’t. They’re unbothered by the beauty and dangers and transformation that lie just outside my tidy hobbit hole door. They’ve charged the entryway, hunkered down at the kitchen table, and they’re eating every scrap of food I have in the house.
This inner space does not feel sacred. It just feels…feel-y. Disrupted. So, so messy.