I shut my eyes
“I shut my eyes most of the time, and focus on my breath. This means, during the first part of the meeting for worship, sinking into the silence and letting myself look at whatever comes into my consciousness. When someone speaks, they may be speaking to me. I listen not so much to the logic of what is being said, as to whether it touches me, so my attention varies. I may find myself trembling, and if I don’t get up and speak, I’m likely to finish the meeting feeling frustrated. A whole lot can go on as I look at my consciousness, from feeling anger to letting my mind wander over everyday things, but whatever it is has less hold when I stay with my breath. I find being still in meeting for worship is simply different from being still when I am alone, and both experiences can be good.”
Inside the Meetinghouse, by Cassandra Shiffman
The heavy doors are open wide, inviting me to look inside.
I peer nervously into the meetinghouse, look a little closer, and I see
White washed benches with soft green colored cushions that glimmer ever so slightly in the light,
Oak circles of honey colored light suspended from the high ceiling by shining brass poles.
I see windows, and doors, and, in one corner, a small, dark wooden table with tissues on it.But most of all,
I see people.
Many kinds of people.
Maybe there is a man with his eyes closed
Or a woman with her fussy children,
Or a girl in the corner, swinging her legs and counting windows,
4,8,12,16 she counts.
All sit, bathing in the silence and the mutual feeling that GOD is with them there.No matter what they call this feeling,
Or the light,
Whether their God is simple
Or simply a spirit present in the hearts of the community
No matter what they believe, they feel personally invited here.
They feel part of a community, loved and respected for their own gifts and talents.
This is a meetinghouse, but it is also a safe haven,
Where one might go