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Anne Peterson reflects on Jane Hirshfield’s poem “In Space” — describing a Canadian astronaut wringing water out of a towel.

It stays by the towel,
horizontal,
transparent isinglass,
a hyaline column.

Then begins to cover his hands,
his wrists,
stays on them
until he passes it to another towel.

On earth
some who watch this
recognize the wrung, irrational soul,

How it does not leave
but stays close,
outside the cleaning twist-fate, but close—

fear   desire   anger
joy   irritation
mourning

wet stuff that is shining,
that cannot go from us,
having nowhere other to fall.

Where is your “wrung, irrational soul” this season?

Mine is joyful—grateful to still be part of this amazing All Saints enterprise after 37 years. It is also tinged with sadness and mournfulness as Ed Bacon, with whom I have worked for nearly 21 years, makes his way toward retirement and a new life in a distant state.

I sit with these realities and others in the early morning, centering myself in a place of peace before launching into the day.

During the Forty Days of Lent, we will offer daily meditations from All Saints Church. Today’s is written by Anne Peterson; a retired staff member who continues to consult with our Leadership Project.

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