Strangers, Sisters & Sanctuaries... The First Story

October 5th, 2008 a stranger left a comment on my blog, in response to a poem I had written, "I hope all is well and you're still believing in your heart's desire." My blog was in it's infancy and comments were rare, especially from a "stranger". I knew mom and dad were frequents, but they do not leave comments. Furthermore dad insists on mom printing each post, to be preserved on paper and kept in a binder. There is something about leafing through a scrapbook of your child's work. Their loving support has been a main stay throughout my life and when they compliment my writing I am skeptical of their lack of bias. Their encouragement is welcomed and "parentally" genuine.

Now back to the comments left by this stranger. Through the link, I discovered she had a website. Her name was Terry. She had an enchanting approach to decorating. She loved her mother. And she helped women in shelters. I recall a feeling of acceptance. I was transported to a cozy cottage sanctuary. I felt compelled to formerly introduce myself, but the technology that enabled us wave at each other from across the street prevented us from crossing and looking each other in the eye. Our casual passing escaped my logical mind, but left a permanent impression onto my heart. Two empty reserved seat were left, always available in the event we were to cross paths again.

A few months passed before those reserved seats were simultaneously occupied; a comment left on another blog, an email, phone calls, and a request to edit a newsletter forged the impression in gold.

When Terry asked me to write something for her I was a bit unsure. My writing was such a personal thing and I wasn't sure if I could write for anyone other than for myself. When you write for somebody else and for an organization you really need to get to know them. You need to form a virtual sanctuary, a place where somebody can be themselves allowing one to get to know another. I am so grateful Terry had the courage to ask me to write for Enchanted Makeovers and grateful I had the courage to accept her invitation.

Soul sisters are divine assignments, I now believe. When we prepare a sanctuary for ourselves and share it with others, strangers become sisters. Not all will be soul sisters, but it takes all kinds. I know the love of a mother, of a father... grandparents, a pet....husband, sibling, son, daughter and the love of myself. With all that love I guess I didn’t realize I needed the love of a true friend. I probably could have lived my life without it and been "O. K.", but I am so glad I wouldn’t need to do that.

Below is the result of Terry's first assignment.



Oh…. morning, you arrive too early for me, always having taken refuge in my bed late into the night, fast approaching morning. Um…. my bed smells of familiarity, sometimes of yesterday’s perfume, my hubby and too rarely the smell of freshly laundered sheets. No matter, the pillows are soft, the down comforter is warm and, besides her wet, cold little nose, Tula, our beloved Chihuahua, keeps my feet warm as we nuzzle together in our cocoon. The sun shines in the wall of windows, awakening me with warmth. The same panes frame bright stars, bringing awareness to the vast universe, just the evening before. A huge comfy “queen” chair sits in a cozy corner and serves as an inexpensive get away, through the escape of a good book. Scarves, pictures, jewelry, books and “old” comforting things are here. The bedroom may be my most sacred of healing sanctuaries within our home.




I awaken somewhat fearful of what my day may bring. It is a fear that can motivate and a fear that can paralyze, first my mind, but the body soon to follow. My stomach churns. If left unattended too many juices that will cause damage. “So long, warm bed, until we meet again, 16 to 18 hours from now. I do love you so.” Thankfully, more healing is only but twenty steps ahead. I am entering my shower, surrounding me with glass and natural slate tile. I am grateful to have made it here. The warm water, infuses me, covers me and washes me of my poison, as if I had my own dialysis machine. Some of my fear is washed down the drain, along with the suds. Some fear is replaced with a bit of courage and perspective soothing the symptoms of my acute stresses awaiting me on this day. The ulcering butterflies start to release from my stomach as I dry, dress and primp just a bit. I am ready to brave the world one more day, as I have layered myself with the healing medicine provided in my sanctuary.




As I rush to get the kids ready and make my way down the stairs I bear witness to my mini “first aid kit” sanctuaries that are sprinkled throughout my home. The mobile hanging in the window in front of my kitchen sink is a collage of repurposed glass, rings, beads and wire all connected to a piece of driftwood. My daughter’s artwork resides on the window sill below. Earthly tones color our home. Dark stained grain shows through the wood of the quarter-sewn oak cabinets, reaching high almost reaching the ceiling. The lights and darks of our hickory wooden floor are a beautiful display of nature’s contrasts.

I speak of my own healing and realize that I take all of this too much for granted most days. It’s a shame considering many, who due to circumstances, find themselves in a place that may only be a meager refuge from the abuse of others or from the abuse they put on themselves, not believing they would even be worthy of such a healing sanctuary such as the place I myself call home.

Prepare your sanctuary. Invite others in. Your life will be infinitely enriched.