There is something about sitting outside under a canopy. Whether the canopy be a tent-like covering or the natural shelter of a tree, the reassurance of the canopy’s presence soothes my soul.
I’m loosely observing the “feast of shelters” this week, also known as “sukkot” in which the Jewish calendar sets aside seven days to remember the wandering in the desert, the deliverance, and the provision of the Creator.
From a quick skim of the internet, booths or shelters are set up as a reminder of the tent dwelling days of the past, as the tribes wandered nomadically and miraculously for forty years in the wasteland. Modern day observances include eating a meal together outside.
My practice doesn’t include eating, instead I take an hour or so out of my day to read and “pray” with or without words, seeking a spiritual meal. The first day is awkward. I don’t remember what I want or need from this sitting time, so I fumble. I take a couple photos, scribble down some words, read from Scriptures, and doodle while I listen to a creative teacher.
I stretch and notice time has passed. There’s a chill in the air. My body tells me it’s time to climb down from my perch. I pack up my “prayer” supplies until tomorrow, when I will return for another time of contemplation.
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