Sanctuary | 08.15.2025 – Dancing at the Edge

Remember, the entrance door to the sanctuary is inside you.
— Rumi

Welcome . . . to another Friday in the Sanctuary.

May you find a few moments of peace and respite here today. Life is tough. We all need to protect our peace!

C’mon in.
Shine your light!

First, let me explain where I am . . . right now. With an added bonus poem.

For the last few weeks, I’ve been giving myself a lot of time and space for reflection; figuring out how to deal with – to live despite – the current political MESS. Because since the election, I have wrung myself completely out here . . . with grief and frustration and disbelief and a kind of betrayal that all the things I was taught to believe were more . . . porous . . . than I ever imagined.

I remain in deep despair that so many people – and “leaders” – have been hoodwinked by this con-man, felon, pedophile. BUT I also feel myself turning an emotional corner. Not . . . acceptance (certainly not that). And not . . . resignation or giving up or burying my head in the sand. It’s more . . . understanding that I cannot continue to function as mySELF if I continue to carry the weight of the current political landscape. I realize that I need to figure out a way to keep mySELF intact WHILE going through this particular time in history. So I can “do the needful” when called upon. So I can remain sane. So I can remember who I AM.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about . . . focus and energy and creativity, the nature of things, pendulum swings. Accepting . . . that things never stay the same, that they are always changing. Bottom line: I need to figure out how to leave “Despairing Kym” behind. So I can become . . . well I don’t know yet . . . a new and stronger version of myself. One who is able to withstand the slings and arrows of The Daily Outrages without allowing them to suck up my soul.

So that’s where I am.

And today, when I opened my email and read James Crews’ weekly poem and essay, I see that I am not alone. So I will share his poem. Maybe it will help you if you’re feeling like turning a corner . . .

Impermanence
by James Crews

The things you make were never
meant to stay. The clay pot
breaks into pieces in your hands
for no reason other than the fact
that it exists. The poem you wrote,
carried in a stranger’s pocket,
folded and unfolded so many times
your name has faded from the page.
Everything leaves an imprint
even when you must let it go,
shut it down, deadbolt the door
and close the drapes one final time.
The love you gave still lives on,
stirring like dust in a hidden
corner of someone’s heart, slight
rustle of warmth that reminds them
anything, anything is possible.

Next, let’s listen to the wonderful Andrea Gibson talk about . . . the love of our lives.

As many of you know, the world lost poet Andrea Gibson last month. (And the earth sighed with collective grief.) If you haven’t had a chance to read or listen to Andrea’s poetry, I hope you will enjoy this clip as a means of introduction. And if you are already familiar with Andrea, I’m betting you won’t mind listening to this one again.