I was born in raised in a land where the cacophony of the holiday season is tucked in by a blanket of quiet, white snow. So, even though the world fills up with crazy shoppers, family dynamics, end of the year work pressures, and internal pressures like actually wanting to buy that pony for your 6 year old, there is a quiet, cold refuge, one can step out and into. You can see your breath in the cold air and, in so doing, be reminded of the simplicity of being-ness.
I've been reflecting on just how precious our silence is at Mysore Melbourne. I'm holding it a little more delicately this week, wanting to protect it. Our white practice space is reminiscent of my snowy holiday memories...where I revered the simple act of breathing in cold air. We too revere the breath. We too can use this space, and this quietness to drop deeper into our being, to settle ourselves and rest in the company of others who are doing the same.
May practice make me a refuge.