Peace, presence and wonder, one photograph or one story at a time.
When I need to be still, or just need calm, I turn to Tibetan singing bowls. There's something about watching the person play them — the care in their hands, the stillness in their face, such passion in it — that intrigues me every time. I breathe deeply and let myself arrive in the sound.
Each bowl holds its own voice. Some low and round, humming underneath everything. Others bright, almost silver, rising and hanging in the air before they fade. I don't try to name what I'm feeling while I listen — I just let the different sounds wash over my soul, one tone dissolving into the next.
Whether it's five minutes or ten, I listen as long as I need to move forward. Sometimes it's a small pause in the middle of a busy morning. Other times it's the thing that finally lets my shoulders drop.
I close with a prayer of thanksgiving — for the sound, for the stillness, for whatever it loosened in me.
Two faces live in this frame. I only found the second when I stopped looking and started staying. Sight is quick. Seeing takes time. Photographer Venita Sydell
Welcome to Selah ~ My Spacious Sanctuary
This is where I keep the things that don't need to defend themselves next to each other —
a photograph from a walk that meant nothing except the light was good,
a line of scripture I'm still turning over, a doubt I haven't resolved.
Writing again, for the pleasure of it, after it being buried under other people's opinions of it.
This is mine.
If you're here, welcome — but this was never written for you.
Where else I show up…
