In the tension of conversation and contact, I sit for a moment in St. Peter’s, my head spinning. The church is quiet save the traffic noise and primarily busses breaking and accelerating on two sides.
There are four people sharing the building. One kneels head in hand and still, contemplating who knows what. Another moves round the building and takes up writing a card for the trees of remembrance. The third wanders around reading and marking the various parts of the building. The fourth has a corner, quiet, warm and safe in which to sleep securely.
Patterns of this sacred space being used repeat on an hourly basis.
And I, well I relish just a few moments alone. My needs also met!