Liturgy of Being Tamed

“Goodbye,” said the fox. “Here is my secret. It’s quite simple: One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes. . . . It’s the time that you spent on your rose that makes your rose so important. . . . People have forgotten this truth,” the fox said, “But you mustn’t forget it. You become responsible for what you’ve tamed. You’re responsible for your rose. . . .” [The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery]

    I unroll the scroll of my heart with the reverence, sanctity and veneration of a Rabbi opening the Torah’s scrolls. One by one my heart reads their names and bows to their images in my mind, each with their page sewn into my heart. Several have no images, only a name, but their inscription upon the scroll is equally deep. Some are present in my life today. Others have left this life and I await our meeting.
    The characters written upon the page differ in their boldness, grace and size. Written with love, the long strokes of fondness are thick and full. Other characters create names of those who taught my heart to heal. The pigment for the earth, her creatures, beauty, the sun, moon and sky are brilliant in their color and pictures. Whatever the boldness, size or color of the stroke each one has tamed me as I have been tamed.
    The liturgy is repeated each day and night and often when I spy a special star, a bird in flight or the sound of laughter. And as ritual and liturgy evolves over time so has mine. Time, roses and foxes have changed my ritual as I now begin with my own name.