I couldn't sleep last night. There were many reasons, but I blamed the moon. It shone in my bedroom window like a spotlight on the sorrow in my heart. My dear sweet dog, Marty, died this week. His wisdom had filled many of my blogs and always provided insight to my inadequate human life. And in spite of the busy holiday obligations, my heart aches and my arms are empty. Everything hurts. And so I pray.
We often think of spiritual practice or prayer as a way to transcend our sorrow, a way to touch the divine. But in this early morning moonlight, I believe the divine exists in sorrow. There is no other companion at a time like this. Only the holy can fill this space.
