I have a music studio/office where I do most of my work. When I go there for some quiet time, I light incense and turn off the overhead fan. If it’s on, the smoke seems to hurry about the room and disappear, like it has somewhere to dash off to. But, as the blades wind down to a stop, the smoke begins to materialize in thin air, take shape, slow down, and linger, going where it will, when it will; and I slow my breathing, drop my agenda, let go of my fears and concerns just a bit, and allow the idea of God’s presence, the spiritual nudge, to coalesce around me.
Later in the day, the lingering scent of incense reminds me;
I am not the center of the universe.
I am just a temple on two legs.
I am just moving through.