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An Invitation

January 14, 2014

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.”
― Marcel Proust

She has a way of calming herself. She has done it for at least a year now. She holds her wrist up to her lips, and makes a gentle sucking sound while she brushes her lips gently back and forth over the back of her wrist. After watching her do this many times, I can see it has become a sacred ritual for her. When she does this, she can pull back into her own space, even amidst the chaos. Every once in a while she will look up at me, over the wire rim of her glasses, while she gently moves her lips along her wrist. It is a connection like no other. But this is her ritual. I can watch, and for that I feel privileged.

But then, two nights ago at bedtime, I was watching her go through her sacred ritual. But something changed. She looked down at me, as she was sitting and I lying in her bed. She looked down at me and offered me her wrist. She gently placed it under my lips and waited, watching me. So I made the same gentle kissing sound that she makes, and she gently rubbed her wrist back and forth under my lips. I was breathless. She took her arm back and went back to doing it herself. And then, as I watched, awestruck, she offered me her wrist again. We went back and forth like this three more times.

My eyes were filled with tears.

I can’t think of a higher honor than to be invited into such a sacred moment. Days later I am still smiling at the memory of it, feeling completely and totally blessed.

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