Emerging from deep within me late yesterday, a hallelujah-style whoooop-yee-ha rung in the trees around the Sunny Garden.
It was a glorious moment!
I set the last stone in that tricky, curvy, slope-y section of the path that I’ve been working on for the last three weeks. I gathered up my tools, grabbed my water bottle, and stretched my back. As I swallowed, I looked down along those stones and realized that I had reached a milestone. (Pun intended.)
Hallelujah!
Weeks ago when I assisted Mac in the Moss Garden, we were wrapping up our work for the day when he invited me to take a stone next to him.
We sat there and observed the space where we’d been on our knees most of the day. Mostly we sat together in silence, with just a few thoughts shared aloud between us. It was a precious reminder for me. A holy pause.
Pause speaks to the very essence of Cedar Cross and why it exists. The spaciousness of respite gives nourishment and clarity to the soul. It balances launching with holding, studying with observing, doing with being.
So, after my big hallelujah moment last evening, I sat down just outside the space and reflected on the pathway, the work, the time, and the context. Putting together these hard pieces of earth is somehow leading me toward new truths about the hard pieces of life in this world. Maybe. Or maybe I’m just building a pathway.
Jimmy Allen
Ginger Allen