Sacred Space
Today I went to Vitalize Studio , the place I used to spend my time in for teaching yoga, practicing yoga, and holding space with my Buddhist Sangha. Today I was there to set up the alter for tomorrow’s Buddhist Fellowship Gathering. Is it really a gathering? The only one who goes to the studio these days for the fellowship gathering is our Sensei, Christopher. Still this place is the space that held over 100 of us for sangha gatherings a year ago. In front of the alter we were young and old, cushion sitters and chair sitters. We would read responsive readings together, chant together, and meditate together. We would lean into each other, hold tissues for each other, and laugh with each other. And of course, there were always hugs.
Now, none of those connections remain except for one. Now we gather together on Zoom, some of us showing glimpses into our homes or backyards. Some of us are hiding our faces. Some of us are just listening on our phones. We all come together, but it is virtual. Christopher still joins us from Vitalize as we follow along in our handbooks. We do the same responsive readings, though our mics on Zoom are muted. We do the same chanting while our mics are muted. We light candles at home, light incense at home, and sit in silent meditation for 20 minutes from the cushions of our computer chairs. But one thing remains - there is always an alter set up for our gathering.
The alter holds the symbols of our practice - there’s a Buddha there, a Jizo, and sometimes a Quan Yin. Then there are offerings - we offer our gratitude through flowers, candy, water, and rice. The alter is fashioned based on the seasons. In the summer we had more yellow, green, and white on our alter. Now that it is fall the alter is decorated with reds and the burnt orange of autumn. The green apples are now tangerines. The summer flowers have transferred to fall colored mums. Yet the alter remains a constant. A reminder of our connection and our times together as a Sangha, singing as one body.
Today I had the opportunity to build the alter. There are four of us who build the alter and we take turns, each of us going in one week or another. I go into the studio where all of the alter decorations are stored. Slowly I pull the alter together - first hanging the wall hangings, then bringing the beautiful wooden alter to the space in front of them. I put the items on the alter that are always placed there: the large Buddha statue, the water, the candle, the candy, the fruit, the flowers, and the rice. As I pour the rice into the small rice cup I wonder. When we met as a group each rice grain had the opportunity to hold space for all of us as we sat in the room and shared our thoughts and feelings. Now, these rice grains fall into the cup with no audience. The y will not hear or sense our feelings. They will sit alone on the alter until Christopher comes in the morning. They will be taken away when I come by later tomorrow in the afternoon to dismantle the alter. Do the grains of rice miss our visits? Were they told by the Buddha statue and the Jizo statue, “Oh! It’s too bad you are visiting here today. In times gone by there were so many people here. Now we sit alone waiting for the ritual of community to return to this space”.
But the ritual is still there. Even though we don’t visit in person the ritual happens. The alter is built. Christopher sits for all of us. We watch on our computer screens and our hearts fill with hope. Someday. Someday we will return and read together, chant together, and meditate together as we become one body in the oneness of life.