In my family, there is a tradition of a worshipping place- the Puja room, so to say. The brass lamp is scrubbed with tamarind and lemon, made to sparkle bright as sunlight itself; oil is poured into it and a cotton wick is soaked and lighted at twilight. The Gods will be smiling, with fresh flowers offered at their feet, and sweet incense notes will be charging up the space with sacred aura and energy. Without taking a bath, no one is allowed entrance therein, and it symbolises everything pure. That you come into the sacred space with a pure body, mind and soul.
And yes, above all, when you sit down and pray, you do not, do not, do not think evil, ask for harm to fall on others, or wish unkindness in any guise. You are free to cry, to beseech, to plead, to canoodle, to praise, to love but hatred is strictly prohibited in all its searing , malignant manifestations.
I have been thinking of Sacred Spaces in personal life for the past two days. Some incidents have happened which has made me ponder on that issue.
An apparent well wisher called up my dear ones and tried to poison their minds against my life choices. When the family converged, in shock and pain, and clarifications were sought and tears changed into smiles, few questions emerged loudest-
How dare an outsider do that to us?
Who the heck is she to intrude into others’ lives?
What gave her the authority or exaggerated sense of self importance, to push into another’s sacred space with impunity and desecrate it with her version of how things should move in the world?
Well, we decided as a family that such intruders will be dealt with severely in future. We tend to take care of wounded in my family- we hate people who go around wounding others. So much for her quest to be Archangel Gabriel on a mission of saving souls from great falls! She has been named as Desecrater.
A similar thing happened to a dear person, strangely, almost simultaneously. He informed someone of a career change, as a matter of fact, since it had legal and financial implications in their lives. The one who received the news, did not take to it kindly. She retaliated with venom and unbridled sarcasm. It was shocking in its intensity. She not only questioned his life choices,( over which she had no control or say whatsoever) but labelled him “bad” because he dared to follow his dreams. Was he not selfish, eh, to do that to the rest of the world? How dare he change his job,when he was supposed to spent his life like a donkey, by bringing in the money? The desecration flowed , more deadlier than any Ebola virus.
Until the family decided to protect the Sacred Space again. The Desecrater was told, in so much words, that she better stay within her boundaries. And that she was an unwanted and detested intruder.
Sometimes, one needs to light another lamp , to ward off offenders who scrounge around like hyneas, waiting for someone’s slow death due to their deadly ,oblique attacks. The brass will sparkle like sunlight, and the wick shall burn bright. The oil shall be poured from a bottle called WORDS. No dark abuse can stay hidden in that Space.
May Grace guard your Sacred Spaces.