deeplystained:~ We all have our own sacred spaces. A place where the light behaves a little differen
deeplystained:~ We all have our own sacred spaces. A place where the light behaves a little differently. Where shadows are not weighed down by bodies, where it’s okay to be afraid. My sacred spaces are laundromats. Any of them, all of them.I don’t know what it is about scuffed linoleum tiles, cheap plastic chairs, or the skeletons of exposed water pipes that make me feel like I’ve come crawling back for forgiveness every time. Maybe it’s the quiet comradery of strangers, each of us standing before a wall of machines as if we’re kneeling between church pews, slightly chagrined, hampers balanced on one hip. Maybe it’s the water-stained stucco ceiling that wants of nothing but our honesty. Or maybe it’s the bank of washers with their mouths hanging open, the promise of having my sins swallowed and forgotten for a pocketful of change. Read More -- source link
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