Like a path through the forest, Sabbath creates a marker for ourselves so, if we are lost, we can find our way back to our center.

Emptiness is the pregnant void out of which all creation springs. But many of us fear emptiness. We prefer to remain...surrounded by things...we imagine are subject to our control.

With every breath, the possibility of a new aspect of self arises.

Can it then be that what we call the 'self' is fluid and elastic? It evolves, strikes a different balance with every new breath.

All life has emptiness at its core; it is the quiet hollow reed through which the wind of God blows and makes the music that is our life.

If busyness can become a kind of violence, we do not have to stretch our perception very far to see that Sabbath time – effortless, nourishing rest – can invite a healing of this violence. When we consecrate a time to listen to the still, small voices, we remember the root of inner wisdom that makes work fruitful. We remember from where we are most deeply nourished, and see more clearly the shape and texture of the people and things before us.

Like a path through the forest, Sabbath creates a marker for ourselves so, if we are lost, we can find our way back to our center.