Something happens when you deprive yourself of comforts voluntarily, whether in fasting, abstaining, or finding yourself in an old monastery in the middle of the English countryside. With only two meals a day, a chill I couldn’t shake, lack of internet and cell service, something happened in that space which is usually cloaked by comfort. Call it magic or mystery but the words of the liturgy I heard several times a day became part of my cadence, placing me in some sort of liminal space; a space between this world and the one we cannot usually see.
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