✨ At the Center of My Being: Finding Stillness in a Restless Day

Today’s reading from Healing After Loss offered a stillness I couldn’t seem to grasp—at least not in the way the words described. Because truthfully, my day was anything but quiet.

I’ve been busy.
The kind of busy that makes your feet ache, your back stiff, and your thoughts race faster than your breath. Boxes, calls, planning, lifting, sorting—life in motion.

But in the swirl of it all, something about today’s reflection kept tugging at me:

“In the point of rest at the center of our being, we encounter a world where all things are at rest in the same way.”
—Dag Hammarskjöld

It made me pause—if only for a moment.
It reminded me that even in chaos, there is a still place in each of us. A sacred center where our soul can rest. A quiet meeting ground where we are not alone.

🌿 The Sacred Center

Grief has changed how I view simplicity.
Once, I thought simplicity meant a tidy house or a short to-do list. Now I realize simplicity is a spiritual clarity—a connection to something deeper, beyond words.
It doesn’t require a cleared calendar. It asks for a softened heart.

That center within me—what the Christian tradition calls “the communion of saints”—has become more real in my grief.
There, I can still sit beside Mark.
There, I feel the warmth of those who have gone before me, those who pray for me still.
There, I remember who I am, even when life feels loud and scattered.

🕊️ A Community of Love

Today, as I folded linens and unpacked what felt like endless boxes, I whispered a few words in that direction.
Not out loud. Not with fanfare.
Just quietly, with my heart turned inward.
And I heard it: the silence that isn’t empty, but full.
Full of memory. Full of presence. Full of home.