Friends,
Late July. Maybe you have been here every Sunday. Maybe you have missed more than you sat. Either way, the door is the same width.
Eight minutes tonight. 8 PM your local time. Coming back is not starting over and it is not catching up. It is just sitting down again, this evening, where you are.
Because the practice moves with the hour, it is always eight o'clock somewhere. A rolling wave, once around the Earth, every week.
Come as you are. Even late. Even lapsed. Even returning.
See you later, in the silence.
Dedication: May the way back always be open, however long we have been gone.
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