Sunday evening, I attended Compline service for the first time. We entered into the cavernous cathedral, the steady quiet pressing on our ears, and took our seats on the outer wall. People filled the pews, sat leaning against that skyscraper columns, and laid down on the floor on blankets and pillows. It was not an uncomfortable silence—there was a wholeness to it.
When the men in the Compline Choir started singing, I felt their voices gently vibrate my spine and I was moved to tears. The sound was so much bigger than me, than all all the people, than the cathedral. I felt small and connected, grateful for the sounds enveloping me. It was a really great way to start my week, reminding me that, despite potential challenges ahead, there is something moving above and beyond me, willing me back to its open arms when I stray too far and and get lost in my head.