cthewind's Blog

This week included my most favorite holy days—days recognized in various ways across different cultures and religious practices as days in which the veil between this world and a world beyond thins and our access to ancestors increases. Through the wind, sudden shocks of cold alternating with strange warmth, shortening days, and angle of the sun we receive clues—invitations to turn our attention and make room for the holy unfolding in our midst.

These are very human holy days, which is why I love them so much. They are embodied and soulful, bringing us undeniably close to the beauty and frailty of living and dying in a world with others.

And it just so happened that one of these holy days was also the first instance in which I accompanied my mama out of her locked neighborhood to an appointment with the dentist. Like a child, she was awestruck by the warmth and beauty of the autumn day. Unlike so many of us, she had a great time at the dentist. He is the one she called “the most kind talking person.” Her gratitude for the dentist and the day was overflowing, leading her to introduce herself to everyone on each elevator ride and tell them what a happy day she was having.

It was a day of fear and awe for me, just as holy days should be. Playing both daughter and mother that day, I feared my capacity to expand care and creativity to do a new thing with my mama. The holy day with its thinned veil and access to ancestors more than made up for my fear. Mama and I were held in a beautiful and sacred mystery far beyond our knowledge, morphing a trip to the dentist into a gateway to awe.