“Our Sun is a second- or third-generation star. All of the rocky and metallic material we stand on, the iron in our blood, the calcium in our teeth, the carbon in our genes were produced billions of years ago in the interior of a red giant star. We are made of star-stuff.” -Carl Sagan
Reflect today on your connection to all of the stuff of the universe. What does it mean that you are made of star stuff?
The practice of moving through a labyrinth is very much a process of opening ourselves to feeling whatever is present for us, learning from them, and then releasing those things. You begin the process with an open mind—sometimes with a question, sometimes with an ache in your heart, sometimes with uncertainty, but always with an open mind. As you make your way through the winding pathway towards the center, you must pay attention. To the lines. To the twists and turns. To lose that attention is to get lost in the labyrinth—it is the only way you can get lost, actually, since it’s just one pathway.
And keeping that attention with an open mind allows in the guests. Some of them—like the guests of joy and companionship and community—are ones we want. Some of them—grief, sadness, despair—are ones we didn’t invite but have to learn from anyway. And then you get to the center. In the center of the labyrinth is a chance to pause. A chance to sit with the guests that have come into your soul during your walk. A chance to listen to what they have to tell you. And a chance to make peace with the fact that they’re visiting you. After whatever time you need to do this, you make your way out, following the same, solitary, serpentine path.
Move through a labyrinth today. If you have the ability and the access, find one to walk. Otherwise, use a finger labyrinth. A finger labyrinth can be found here.
“We know we must build community and culture that values our lived experiences and nurtures our survival. We know we are practicing the rejection of ableism and transphobia and elitism and ageism and homophobia and racism and all exclusion. Oh—and I love how we already know that inclusion means all of all of us, and hospitality means honoring folx as their full selves. We know we need disability justice, queer theology, funding of expenses, access accommodations, inclusive language, scholarships, plain language explanations, gender neutral bathrooms, child care, and all the things that can make it possible for us to be safe and well, loved and held sacred….” -Laura Conkle
How can you make it possible for people of all abilities and disabilities to be safe, well, loved, and held sacred?
Let us move in our meditation today. Not physically—you can keep your body still. Let us move in metaphor. To envision the body of humanity moving as one—walking, crawling, rolling, marching, running. Some will need help to move forward—an arm here, a walker there, a cane, a wheelchair, a scooter. Some will need to be carried as we go. Some will be able to offer an arm, to pick up a sibling, But we will all move together. Forward, down the length of the arc of the universe. Forward, toward justice. Forward, toward liberation.
How can you help humanity move forward just a little bit today?
You share 55% of the DNA in your genes with a banana tree, 80% with a cow, 98.5% with a chimpanzee, and 99.99% with every other human being on the planet. One ten-thousandth of the DNA in our genes is responsible for all of the differences we see in humanity. For the hundreds of rainbow shades that skin, eyes and hair come in. For the differences that make it so hard to find organs to transplant. For every shape and size that humans come in.
Notice your connection to other living beings today. Feel your relation to them. They are your kin.
