At the end of the day I put my hand on the door handle and push open the front door. The air inside is cool and sweet. The house knows I am here, and welcomes me home.
This morning the house watched as the sun rose across the roofs to the east and let the morning light play on its walls.
It watched the blackbirds fly the narrow passageway along its south wall and provided shade to a family of rabbits who have made a home in the hedge.
It waited silently, settled within itself as the sun traced its arc overhead. It felt the afternoon rain washing the dust off the clay tile roof.
The house gathers its arms around me as I light candles in the fading light. It draws them closer as I blow each one out later, in the darkness.
It draws its protective cover over the sleeping humans and sleeping dogs within. It keeps quiet, peaceful watch through the night, until the sun again peeks over the roofs in the east.
This house has watched children grow and eat and fight and hug. It’s been a silent witness to every tear, every laugh, every steaming dinner and every glass of wine.
I can sense the love that fills this house. This structure is alive with love.
This is what sanctuary feels like.
You may already know that feeling of being nurtured by your surroundings. If you want to learn how to bring more of that into your life, my team and I are working diligently to prepare the Second Edition of our course Seven Days to Sanctuary .
Once we open the doors, registration will be open for only a short time before we close them in order to begin the course.
If you’d like to be notified in advance of the course, add your hame to the list and we will keep you updated.