Our Little Pentecost

Yesterday morning, I was part of a group gathering to help envision the future of The Hive, the organization with whom I share Contemplative Photography and who also offers many different modalities of spirituality and connection.  We were in the main room and there were several windows open as it was a stunningly cool late-summer morning.  

I chose a seat nearly right in front of the window (the cool breeze was blowing over my right shoulder) and one of the other participants seated across the room shared later how it felt to have the breeze blowing right at her.  As we shared around the circle about how we had come to that place, I kept thinking about the story of Pentecost where the Spirit/Breath/Ruach/Pneuma of God blew into a room and began a community in which there was not to be Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female.  

While our group was not centered on the Christian tradition, I marveled at the beauty of the people gathered.  Male, Female, Non-binary, straight, queer, trans, cis, black, white, and a wide variety of spiritualities.  It was beautiful.  At one point, I looked down at the floor ahead of me and noticed how one of the pattern of one of the carpets looked like a breeze and also how it contrasted with the very normal floor.  The breath of spirit was blowing into that space this morning upon all of us very ordinary yet incredibly beautiful people and moving among us to create something bigger than ourselves.  

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