Creating sacred space: The bride’s perspective
This entry follows the article: “Building sacred space for a wedding”.
The Healing Home is pleased to introduce Zoë Borrell McCaffrey, as a contributing author. Zoë is a mother, teacher, a writer, and a student/practitioner of various holistic health practices. Zoë brings a new voice and another perspective to our various topic areas.
As I made my way from the Bridal Suite to the point of my entrance for the procession, the first thing I noticed was the wind. It was a blustery force and I held on to the crown of flowers in my hair, anxious that all my preparations would be spoiled in one gust.
Minutes before, when I had stepped out into the natural light for Alexis to check my make-up, there had been no wind at all … just late afternoon Colorado warmth.
Peering around the corner of the farmhouse I could see our guests seated inside the bagua clutching their programs and pushing hair from their faces. The white fabric panels were flapping back and forth and the wind chimes above the altar were ringing loudly.
I could hear the drumming of Babatunde Olatunji’s Dawn signaling the beginning of the ceremony as my dear, sweet girlfriends evoked their dance of femininity setting the stage with heartfelt authenticity. The drumming continued and the wind intensified; it seemed as if it entered the bagua through the southern opening and flew straight skyward.
How would my hair stay put? How would we hear each other? Relenting that I could not control the wind, I threw my hand up and waved at Jesse as he cruised by taking photos.
The wind howled as Joe and MaryAnn walked hand and hand to the entrance of the bagua. Entranced by the drumming of Olatunji, they kicked off their shoes and danced together to the hoots and cheers of our family.
As the drumming faded away, Aaron Copland’s Appalachian Spring, Variations on a Shaker Melody signaled the flower girls and ring bearers to move down the aisle. My mom and dad crossed the green towards me, their clothes blowing around them. Wind or no wind – it was time. Head held high, and so very excited, I made my way to the entrance.
Overcome with emotion, I looked around to see all of my loved ones encircled by the bagua, and felt the collective energy moving within. It felt as though each one of them were a hollow reed – as if the bagua itself was a hollow reed – through which love and light and intention flowed upwards to the heavens. What else could the wind do but follow suit?
Looking back at the photos, you can tell by my hair that the steady gusts continued until the moment Joe and I met at the altar. Perhaps as our hands joined, the wind departed – leaving nothing but stillness and spaciousness into which we pour our love.