I have altars here and there around the house.  Little gatherings of tribute to remind me of the Divine in my every day all the time, as I move through the house is with me.

On this table-we call it the dining room table, but we rarely eat here–is a statue of Quan Yin with her robes flowing out into the breeze, her eyes cast down and her hand pouring out her endless compassion.  She stands two wide petaled lotuses resting on turbulent waves.  She is ever at peace.

Next to her is a card handmade by my brother in prison, the colors of the Eye of Horus cut from tiny pieces of magazines, with a border of many patterns and a deeply touching poem of how now he can see clearly. 

Scattered at the Goddess’s feet are two little laughing elephants, a frozen starfish, two pinecones and a handful of soft round rocks.  These are fresh rocks from the beach on Whidbey Island.  And as always, there is a vase of flowers, a symbol of my eternal bowing to Her grace.