I have only recently been paying attention to my places of refuge. I lately saw how my sitting meditation offered me a refuge from the pain of letting go. There I could practice Tonglen and absorb the pain without its barb. I found refuge on my cushion. It was a safe place where I could accept the pain and struggle.
I often find refuge in my sangha. It is a small community of companions, we are attentive of one another, we create a safe place to unfold and expose our inner awareness if we choose. We are deeply accepting and support the unique, but similar, path each of us is on.
I take refuge in my friends. Their attentiveness assures me that I matter, that I exist, that I am of value. I want to be a refuge for each of them. I want to be a place of recognition and assurance for them. I want them to rely on me to be a refuge where they can be themselves and feel my unconditional acceptance. I want to mirror their goodness for them.
My garden is a refuge, in both summer and winter. The constant animation of the garden is like the soothing embrace of a warm down comforter. We give one another life and renewal. We cleanse one another of anything that restricts our growth. While my cabin is only an occasional refuge, it is like my garden and is always on the margins of my mind.
I am learning to become my refuge. There are many times that I take refuge within my own skin. This is one of the benefits of meditation. I learn and practice how to feel refuge in myself, from my head to my toes. Sometimes I find total acceptance in this refuge; sometimes there is a deep peace.