During the years after my car accident in 2001, I found out that my short-term memory was impaired. I did a bachelor and master in law, training my memory every day. Those were the "secret places", the moments I could reflect on difficult legal issues. I got my LL.M degree in 2018, three years before I had a severe stroke. Now, my "secret place" - my son calls it my sanctuary - in the house we're moving in next March. Then my "secret place" is not only a contemplating time during the day, but also a physical room without any distraction of light, noise or other tiring stimuli. I can go there at any time of the day, the house is fully wheelchair accessible. For now, I put on my [regrettably expensive] headphones and listen to relaxing music. Softly and peacefully.
At the moment, I'm re-reading your book "Quiet" for the - not sure - fifth or sixth time. I'm reading it in Dutch, but what strikes me every time is the shift, that we also see in The Netherlands and other European countries, from a character- to a personality-based society.
It's not only disturbing for me, being an introvert who values ethics, morals and "personal virtues". Especially the Stoic and/or cardinal virtues are important to me, although the three, added by Christianity, have their own qualities: I mostly focus on hope and love, as a Humanist, I'm not the "belief" type. What disturbes me even more is that "personality" can be entirely moral-free. People with a huge personality, sometimes even with narcissistic traits, are playing a growing role in society, business and politics.
Much of my "safe space" time is, how sad as it may sound, consumed by thinking about how this shift in society can be softened or even reversed. To canalize my thoughts, I try to express them in poems. Perhaps, at some point, I find the courage to publish one or two in English... But I'm more a "Rosa Parks"-type than a "reverend Martin Luther King"-spokesman.
However, all of the contributions in your Substack-channel from different contributors are "a blessing in disguise". Thank you all!
I don't have a sacred place or hour, but I sure would like to create one. I think it's something I desperately need.
What would my daily sacred place look like?
I'd love to create/build a reading nook with a large window, pillows scattered about, shelves of books on both sides. A candle burning, my cat curled up with me, my dog lounging beside me, as I sip hot tea or apple cider and read. Classical music playing softly in the background. Ahhhh!
I’ve loved reading about everyone’s sacred spaces. I’ve never thought about having an actual physical sacred space before . My sacred space is inside me, which is beautiful as I can carry it wherever I go, visit it whenever I feel the desire to. However, battling through the noise and distraction in my brain to get there can sometimes be challenging, so I wonder if cultivating an actual tangible physical space, would enable me to visit more easily?
In my apartment, as my girls are little, there's not much space for that, but what resembles this is waking up at 5 am, when everyone's sleep and I take the time to have a bath, read quietly, clean the dishes and pretty much let my thoughts linger. I generally avoid the smartphone, so I can have alone time with my thoughts.
And somewhere else, my sacred place is wherever I can have a coffee, a comfy place to sit, headphones and music. Oh, and of course, some good books. Everyone laughs at me as I always have a big bag of books where I choose what I feel to read at that particular moment. For instance, now I'm reading Wintering as I feel a little blue and things with my partner aren't going so swell.
Good thing you reminded me of the Bittersweet course! I'll try to get into it as soon as I can, as I really love the idea of you sending messages every day for 30 days. Everytime I feel blue, I also listen to your Audible. I need some encouragement as I feel pretty worthless and uncreative at the mo.
Thanks for usually bringing enlightenment into my life every time. Your post almost always bring a sense of presence, wonder and beauty that it really puts the cacophony of life on hold and really reminds me of my purpose, of enjoying life and just trying to be connected to love and serenity as my compass.
My sacred space is the time right after I wake up. It's usually still dark or just barely getting light. I often mediate right away or I go outside barefooted to watch the light grow and breath the cool or cold air. Watching the sky turn from dark to light is a very sacred act for me. During my husband's decades long illness, slipping outside for a micro-meditation let me reset and feel the magic and regenerative power of nature. I've continued since his passing and expanded this time. Before the day starts, the possibilities are still fresh and my energy is light and free from the demands of life. Hearing the birds begin to sing and seeing the first pink streaks in the sky never ceases to bring my spirit to a higher vibration as I begin my day.
Springbrook Park is a sacred place for me and for others. I have been walking there nearly daily for 15 years. Among the trees, lichen, ferns, moss, birds, leaves, breezes, earth, occasional deer or coyote with the distant sounds of school children.... so much arises for consideration. Think of Mary Oliver's poem, Long Afternoon at the Edge of Little Sister Pond, " As for life, I'm humbled..... Every day I walk out into the world to be dazzled, then to be reflective."
My bedroom was the first thing that came to mind that feels sacred :) that’s where I go to journal and get away from the noise of my husband’s video games. I have my favorite pieces of art in a gallery on the wall. I have my hats hanging on the wall to the left of my bedside. It’s the room I’ve been the most creative with the aesthetic. I recently turned my vanity into a writing/painting station but have yet to use it. Maybe I’ll put it to use over winter break from grad school.
Interestingly though, this very same bedroom is not my sacred space in the nighttime. I live with PTSD and my bedroom is the scene of night terrors and fear. In the night, my living-room becomes my sacred space. With our year-round holiday tree, battery operated candles flickering gently, and tv playing great British baking show to lull me back to sleep.
I look forward to having a dedicated space in the future - maybe a rain room, like a sun room, but for the rain since I’m more of a rain gal. Or maybe somewhere outside in the shade for my hammock. We will see.
Wow, this video is everything! I watched it a couple times. He’s a wise man. As I get older, I yearn to spend more time in these sacred places rather than the ones that are “economically or socially determined”.
A sacred place outside my home is a lake which is a 4 minute drive from our home. I like to drive there so I’m protected from outside distraction. I can just stare at the lake and be with my thoughts or play some music while being undisturbed. I also was recently talking to my husband about making our guest room into my own little room which could be my “sacred place” as well.
Susan, I also love the picture of you at Doma. I see a kindred spirit I can deeply related to ❤️
Joseph Campbell and you ask such an important question – where is your bliss station, your sacred spot? As we have grown and evolved and our circumstances have changed, we may have had many such spots where we could intimately connect with ourselves and think serious or even not-so-serious thoughts, but we were free to engage and dance around with whatever our minds and emotions could conjure up. I had for a time such a place across the street from our house, perched on its tall pilings where to the west was an exquisite national wildlife refuge teeming with the noisy chatter of life of all kinds, and across the street, to the east, there was a small cast concrete bench with well-worn and weathered wood slats on top of a modest sand dune, overlooking the Delaware Bay. On clear days, our home state of New Jersey was visible. It quickly became my “writing bench” and where I would go with a pad, sometimes a cigar, and other times maybe a wee dram of a single malt and think about and write about life. Yes, it was a “creative incubator” where there was perhaps a poem or an idea for my novel or simply a profound appreciation for a brilliantly luminous moon sending to me its light slicing across the dark surface of gentle waves a few yards away on the beach. However fraught the day may have been or however meaningless everything may have felt in the moment, the bench was there, empty, beckoning, waiting for whatever I might bring to it or whatever it might give me in return.
Joseph Campbell! So wise after observing cultures all over the world and how they found meaning and the stories of cosmology that shaped them. This interview took place years ago but is more timely than ever with the tsunami of "communication" and societal influences we experience daily. My sacred place must be playing and listening to music. The resonance of the harp strings brings a sense of peace and calming. Now I am inspired to be more intentional about being more consistently "present" when I am in that space and even take that musical space "outside" to experience with natural surroundings.
I have loved reading everyone's sacred space comments. I resonate with many. Mine is evolving in that my son moved back home after his relationship of 14 years and two children ended. The ex, never married, kicked him out due to him no longer being able to work or walk without crutches after bone cancer surgeries in 2016 and 2019 left him disabled and in chronic pain. He had SSDI and Medicare and was the caregiver, despite his condition, of his daughter until she was ready to turn 5. He is such a good Dad. His son was in preschool when the baby was born and then school, so the ex could take him with her when she was teaching. Then she kicked him out. We have been in court since battling a bogus domestic violence claim that arise a year after she kicked him out.
My home was my sacred place always, but now only when it's quiet and I don't feel responsibility calling my name. Hanging out with my twin sister is sacred to me. We are both in caretaking mode. She my Dad, who I help with, and her husband who has Stage 4 prostate cancer that has spread to his bones. The medicine he takes will only keep things at bay for so long. 😔
I'm so sorry you're going through all that, Kimberly. I find that my best friend and I are each other's sacred space, too. We've share so many similar paths in life--the loss of our first baby, kids with health issues--and we understand each other like no one else can understand us. We laugh, we cry, we support. Until I read your post, I had not thought about our friendship as a sacred space, but it most certainly is.
I pray that your family finds some peace and healing.
I love this post. Most mornings I fall into my slightly overstuffed chair and cozy up with a cup of freshly brewed coffee and my book and inevitably murmur to self how much I love my quiet time and cozy space. Of course I couldn’t do that until I retired, I’m enjoying it thoroughly and feel blessed. Thanks for bringing this to light for me.
Through the years I have developed different sacred spaces. Life evolves, rhythms change. Four years ago my husband was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Opportunities for sacred space was harder. I took a spare bedroom and made it mine. A new easy chair, book shelves topped with mini lights, candles and mementoes that touched my heart, art & quotes on the walls. After he was asleep I would go, often with a cup of tea, to pray and lament the future. I clung to my faith in God and his mercies. This past June he peacefully stopped breathing, leaving his physical body and ascending into Jesus’ presence.
I live in an old house and have an upstairs sunroom, which was once a sleeping porch, as my sewing room/studio. I find if I can just walk into that room, with a half hour or an hour to myself, I will always find something creatively satisfying and restful to the mind to do. I make quilts, and find I can get a lot done a little at a time. But often I’m not goal oriented, I just put myself in there and do the next thing.
The sun and my plants and the view of my garden and treetops are restorative, often I notice a big exhale as I enter.
This sounds lovely. Quilting offers so much peace: the orderliness of the project, the beauty as colors compliment each other, rest for the mind as one works.
Susan, I am so happy to receive your emails. This connection / signpost to Joseph Campbell is illuminating and helps to anchor me. I seek Sacred spaces daily. I have a few near home, ones I can walk to. A field with extensive views, a tree under which I stand. And some I drive to, a cafe with a Japanese garden, a church with simple very old carvings. And a space in my home where I create. I’m ‘me’ in those places and feel bliss rising and a smile forming
During the years after my car accident in 2001, I found out that my short-term memory was impaired. I did a bachelor and master in law, training my memory every day. Those were the "secret places", the moments I could reflect on difficult legal issues. I got my LL.M degree in 2018, three years before I had a severe stroke. Now, my "secret place" - my son calls it my sanctuary - in the house we're moving in next March. Then my "secret place" is not only a contemplating time during the day, but also a physical room without any distraction of light, noise or other tiring stimuli. I can go there at any time of the day, the house is fully wheelchair accessible. For now, I put on my [regrettably expensive] headphones and listen to relaxing music. Softly and peacefully.
you sound incredibly wise and grounded, Hans. Wishing you many soft and peaceful moments in your sacred space.
Thank you, Susan.
At the moment, I'm re-reading your book "Quiet" for the - not sure - fifth or sixth time. I'm reading it in Dutch, but what strikes me every time is the shift, that we also see in The Netherlands and other European countries, from a character- to a personality-based society.
It's not only disturbing for me, being an introvert who values ethics, morals and "personal virtues". Especially the Stoic and/or cardinal virtues are important to me, although the three, added by Christianity, have their own qualities: I mostly focus on hope and love, as a Humanist, I'm not the "belief" type. What disturbes me even more is that "personality" can be entirely moral-free. People with a huge personality, sometimes even with narcissistic traits, are playing a growing role in society, business and politics.
Much of my "safe space" time is, how sad as it may sound, consumed by thinking about how this shift in society can be softened or even reversed. To canalize my thoughts, I try to express them in poems. Perhaps, at some point, I find the courage to publish one or two in English... But I'm more a "Rosa Parks"-type than a "reverend Martin Luther King"-spokesman.
However, all of the contributions in your Substack-channel from different contributors are "a blessing in disguise". Thank you all!
Dear Hans, everything you just wrote resonates so much with me. Thank you.
Susan, I would love to read some of Czeslaw Milosz works. Any suggestions on where to begin? Your favorites?
I don't have a sacred place or hour, but I sure would like to create one. I think it's something I desperately need.
What would my daily sacred place look like?
I'd love to create/build a reading nook with a large window, pillows scattered about, shelves of books on both sides. A candle burning, my cat curled up with me, my dog lounging beside me, as I sip hot tea or apple cider and read. Classical music playing softly in the background. Ahhhh!
I’ve loved reading about everyone’s sacred spaces. I’ve never thought about having an actual physical sacred space before . My sacred space is inside me, which is beautiful as I can carry it wherever I go, visit it whenever I feel the desire to. However, battling through the noise and distraction in my brain to get there can sometimes be challenging, so I wonder if cultivating an actual tangible physical space, would enable me to visit more easily?
In my apartment, as my girls are little, there's not much space for that, but what resembles this is waking up at 5 am, when everyone's sleep and I take the time to have a bath, read quietly, clean the dishes and pretty much let my thoughts linger. I generally avoid the smartphone, so I can have alone time with my thoughts.
And somewhere else, my sacred place is wherever I can have a coffee, a comfy place to sit, headphones and music. Oh, and of course, some good books. Everyone laughs at me as I always have a big bag of books where I choose what I feel to read at that particular moment. For instance, now I'm reading Wintering as I feel a little blue and things with my partner aren't going so swell.
Good thing you reminded me of the Bittersweet course! I'll try to get into it as soon as I can, as I really love the idea of you sending messages every day for 30 days. Everytime I feel blue, I also listen to your Audible. I need some encouragement as I feel pretty worthless and uncreative at the mo.
Thanks for usually bringing enlightenment into my life every time. Your post almost always bring a sense of presence, wonder and beauty that it really puts the cacophony of life on hold and really reminds me of my purpose, of enjoying life and just trying to be connected to love and serenity as my compass.
My sacred space is the time right after I wake up. It's usually still dark or just barely getting light. I often mediate right away or I go outside barefooted to watch the light grow and breath the cool or cold air. Watching the sky turn from dark to light is a very sacred act for me. During my husband's decades long illness, slipping outside for a micro-meditation let me reset and feel the magic and regenerative power of nature. I've continued since his passing and expanded this time. Before the day starts, the possibilities are still fresh and my energy is light and free from the demands of life. Hearing the birds begin to sing and seeing the first pink streaks in the sky never ceases to bring my spirit to a higher vibration as I begin my day.
Springbrook Park is a sacred place for me and for others. I have been walking there nearly daily for 15 years. Among the trees, lichen, ferns, moss, birds, leaves, breezes, earth, occasional deer or coyote with the distant sounds of school children.... so much arises for consideration. Think of Mary Oliver's poem, Long Afternoon at the Edge of Little Sister Pond, " As for life, I'm humbled..... Every day I walk out into the world to be dazzled, then to be reflective."
My bedroom was the first thing that came to mind that feels sacred :) that’s where I go to journal and get away from the noise of my husband’s video games. I have my favorite pieces of art in a gallery on the wall. I have my hats hanging on the wall to the left of my bedside. It’s the room I’ve been the most creative with the aesthetic. I recently turned my vanity into a writing/painting station but have yet to use it. Maybe I’ll put it to use over winter break from grad school.
Interestingly though, this very same bedroom is not my sacred space in the nighttime. I live with PTSD and my bedroom is the scene of night terrors and fear. In the night, my living-room becomes my sacred space. With our year-round holiday tree, battery operated candles flickering gently, and tv playing great British baking show to lull me back to sleep.
I look forward to having a dedicated space in the future - maybe a rain room, like a sun room, but for the rain since I’m more of a rain gal. Or maybe somewhere outside in the shade for my hammock. We will see.
Wow, this video is everything! I watched it a couple times. He’s a wise man. As I get older, I yearn to spend more time in these sacred places rather than the ones that are “economically or socially determined”.
A sacred place outside my home is a lake which is a 4 minute drive from our home. I like to drive there so I’m protected from outside distraction. I can just stare at the lake and be with my thoughts or play some music while being undisturbed. I also was recently talking to my husband about making our guest room into my own little room which could be my “sacred place” as well.
Susan, I also love the picture of you at Doma. I see a kindred spirit I can deeply related to ❤️
Read his book The Power of Myth. It's fabulous!
My mother-in-law always ask us to give her the name of a book we would like to receive for Christmas. I’m going to request it this year:)
Joseph Campbell and you ask such an important question – where is your bliss station, your sacred spot? As we have grown and evolved and our circumstances have changed, we may have had many such spots where we could intimately connect with ourselves and think serious or even not-so-serious thoughts, but we were free to engage and dance around with whatever our minds and emotions could conjure up. I had for a time such a place across the street from our house, perched on its tall pilings where to the west was an exquisite national wildlife refuge teeming with the noisy chatter of life of all kinds, and across the street, to the east, there was a small cast concrete bench with well-worn and weathered wood slats on top of a modest sand dune, overlooking the Delaware Bay. On clear days, our home state of New Jersey was visible. It quickly became my “writing bench” and where I would go with a pad, sometimes a cigar, and other times maybe a wee dram of a single malt and think about and write about life. Yes, it was a “creative incubator” where there was perhaps a poem or an idea for my novel or simply a profound appreciation for a brilliantly luminous moon sending to me its light slicing across the dark surface of gentle waves a few yards away on the beach. However fraught the day may have been or however meaningless everything may have felt in the moment, the bench was there, empty, beckoning, waiting for whatever I might bring to it or whatever it might give me in return.
Joseph Campbell! So wise after observing cultures all over the world and how they found meaning and the stories of cosmology that shaped them. This interview took place years ago but is more timely than ever with the tsunami of "communication" and societal influences we experience daily. My sacred place must be playing and listening to music. The resonance of the harp strings brings a sense of peace and calming. Now I am inspired to be more intentional about being more consistently "present" when I am in that space and even take that musical space "outside" to experience with natural surroundings.
I have loved reading everyone's sacred space comments. I resonate with many. Mine is evolving in that my son moved back home after his relationship of 14 years and two children ended. The ex, never married, kicked him out due to him no longer being able to work or walk without crutches after bone cancer surgeries in 2016 and 2019 left him disabled and in chronic pain. He had SSDI and Medicare and was the caregiver, despite his condition, of his daughter until she was ready to turn 5. He is such a good Dad. His son was in preschool when the baby was born and then school, so the ex could take him with her when she was teaching. Then she kicked him out. We have been in court since battling a bogus domestic violence claim that arise a year after she kicked him out.
My home was my sacred place always, but now only when it's quiet and I don't feel responsibility calling my name. Hanging out with my twin sister is sacred to me. We are both in caretaking mode. She my Dad, who I help with, and her husband who has Stage 4 prostate cancer that has spread to his bones. The medicine he takes will only keep things at bay for so long. 😔
We are each other's sacred space.
I'm so sorry you're going through all that, Kimberly. I find that my best friend and I are each other's sacred space, too. We've share so many similar paths in life--the loss of our first baby, kids with health issues--and we understand each other like no one else can understand us. We laugh, we cry, we support. Until I read your post, I had not thought about our friendship as a sacred space, but it most certainly is.
I pray that your family finds some peace and healing.
Thank you so much for your kind words, Nancy.
I can't even imagine losing a child. For both you and your friend to share so much is a gift to one another.
I love this post. Most mornings I fall into my slightly overstuffed chair and cozy up with a cup of freshly brewed coffee and my book and inevitably murmur to self how much I love my quiet time and cozy space. Of course I couldn’t do that until I retired, I’m enjoying it thoroughly and feel blessed. Thanks for bringing this to light for me.
Through the years I have developed different sacred spaces. Life evolves, rhythms change. Four years ago my husband was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Opportunities for sacred space was harder. I took a spare bedroom and made it mine. A new easy chair, book shelves topped with mini lights, candles and mementoes that touched my heart, art & quotes on the walls. After he was asleep I would go, often with a cup of tea, to pray and lament the future. I clung to my faith in God and his mercies. This past June he peacefully stopped breathing, leaving his physical body and ascending into Jesus’ presence.
I live in an old house and have an upstairs sunroom, which was once a sleeping porch, as my sewing room/studio. I find if I can just walk into that room, with a half hour or an hour to myself, I will always find something creatively satisfying and restful to the mind to do. I make quilts, and find I can get a lot done a little at a time. But often I’m not goal oriented, I just put myself in there and do the next thing.
The sun and my plants and the view of my garden and treetops are restorative, often I notice a big exhale as I enter.
This sounds lovely. Quilting offers so much peace: the orderliness of the project, the beauty as colors compliment each other, rest for the mind as one works.
Susan, I am so happy to receive your emails. This connection / signpost to Joseph Campbell is illuminating and helps to anchor me. I seek Sacred spaces daily. I have a few near home, ones I can walk to. A field with extensive views, a tree under which I stand. And some I drive to, a cafe with a Japanese garden, a church with simple very old carvings. And a space in my home where I create. I’m ‘me’ in those places and feel bliss rising and a smile forming