The sacred space behind the chair

It’s 8 x 10.

The smallest room in the house.

Before the last baby was born, I began dreaming about it.

Until then, my Tuesdays were spent in a large room, chairs for ten. Hundreds of thousands of words filled the air as dreams of the heart, and faces in the mirror, met in  raw authenticity that’s hard to find out there.

There’s an intimate bond left unspoken.

A tender balance between laughter and heart-share.

The chair is a sacred space.

I feel honored to stand behind it, because when she sits down, for just a  few minutes, the weight of the world falls to the floor.

Warm water rinsing away the sting  of disappointment and deep ache of betrayal.

Dreams for  days in white, hopes for  pink or  blue, abrupt meetings draped in black.

Each time, a unique blend of color and shape.

Each time, a search for  balance.

Each time strands of life part and make way for rare connection.  

Each time, beauty in the mirror as a heart takes shape.

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To my Tuesday girls – you should know you give me hope.  I see your beautiful scars.  I feel the depth of your dreams.  I watch as you steady your foot when the path is rocky.   I cheer when you reach soft green ground.  I breathe deep when you have moments of rest.  I break in two when your heart spills out.  And I am profoundly honored when you join me in the sacred space of becoming.

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I'm a forty something women managing a busy family, working as a hair designer and trying to use my big-girl words.

14 thoughts on “The sacred space behind the chair”

  1. Love, Love, Love and honored to be one who gets to sit in your chair. Even though I have the privilege of being your client for years and years; what I enjoy most is being your friend and sisiter in Christ! For those who know your work, your talent, your friendship…we are the ones who are blessed! Love you!


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