Kitchen Temples

I love temples.  I love holy places.  It matters not to me what religious beliefs are associated with the space, because when I enter a holy place the feeling that fills me is the same.  I can walk into a Catholic church, or a Mosque, or a Buddhist Stupa, or a Stone Circle and feel the same sense of peace enter my heart; the same grace and stillness.

And, the only thing I love even more then entering  a temple, is when a temple enters me. 

This morning as I sat singing along side my good friend, in her sunny kitchen, I found myself in a temple of the most extraordinary kind.  The wind came in through the open window and stirred the sunflowers on her kitchen counter.  The prayer flags outside cast a liquid shadow on the kitchen cupboards and prayers filled the room.  The dogs on the floor lolled in and out of blissful sleep as the songs spilled out of our hearts and left nothing to be desired.   Glass prisms cast rainbows on the wall while a kind of magic swirled to remind me of the holy temples that  friendship and music can create.