I’ve been thinking about the word sacred. No, that’s not quite right. I’ve been thinking about the concept of the sacred. In our world, right now, little is considered truly sacred. Why? Because to call something sacred is to give it power. And we are a culture that lives in terror of power. We don’t want to be forced to hold power with wisdom and grace – it’s too hard, but more, we don’t want someone else to hold it and so we straddle a barbed wire fence.

In truth, everything can be sacred and everything can be stripped of that which makes it sacred. And usually, usually the only difference is us. Do we choose to see and acknowledge that which is sacred in each interaction?  Do we feel that blood pumping and limbs moving is a sacred expression of our freedom of movement or a chore of exercise? Do we think that conversation with an employee about poor performance is a pain we have to march through or a compassionate moment to redirect someone’s efforts to better serve them and their goals even if they will never be able to serve our goals? Is laughing with our kids goofing off and shirking work or is it basking in the sacred joy of parenting? The answer is always both. Is sex sacred? it is if it’s done with love and wonder and joy. It usually depends on us.

When we see the sacred in things we are much more open to compassion. We can’t help it. If you are sacred, and my interaction with you is sacred, then I have to think twice about gossiping or choosing to view you in a negative light because you challenge me. You are sacred.  Challenge is sacred. In that light, I can no longer tear you down. And we are both the better for it.

This morning when leaving my neighborhood a young rabbit and I intersected badly. He hit the inside of my wheel as he panicked and ran across the road. I knew when I felt him hit the wheel that he would die shortly. In many ways, I wanted to not look, not think about it, not feel his death. But death, like life, is sacred – and no less so just because he was a rabbit. And so, I allowed myself to feel his death -to murmur an apology and a blessing as he went. I’m sorry we tried to occupy the same space at the same time and that my reflexes could not spare him. But just as importantly, I’m glad I can still care and can still see that his life and death were sacred.  He was just a rabbit and also, he was much, much more.

A sense of the sacred is what gives life meaning – which is another way of saying it’s what gives the moments and choices of our life power. If we refuse to allow our lives to be sacred because it’s too hard, because it requires too much of us and opens us up to too much pain and joy then we miss the point of life.  We are sacred. We are powerful. If I choose to see the sacred in the world around me, I allow that world power to move me and in that choice, give myself power to be moved without being toppled.  This is true power. The daily interactions of our lives can matter or not – it’s up to us to choose how we will see them – and it’s up to others to make that same choice.  And when we can see the sacred in our lives, we open ourselves to wonder and to fully living rather than marking time and marching through the steps.  Will you allow your life to be sacred?