I share the story of an ordinary outdoor bench that became something extraordinary—a place of stillness, communion, and peace during the uncertainty of the pandemic. It was on this bench that I wrote, reflected, and connected with both neighbors and the Mystery itself.

But as I prepared to leave my home after five years, I realized how easy it is to mistake the tool for the source, to confuse the object with the presence it points toward. The bench was never the peace. It was only a doorway into what is always here.

This reflection is about benches in all our lives—the cushions, rituals, rhythms, and objects that serve us for a time, but are not the essence themselves.

Listen in as I ask:

How do we turn tools into idols without noticing?What happens when the objects we lean on are no longer there?Where do we look for the sacred when everything familiar is stripped away?

The bench taught me what all benches teach: the Mystery is never in the object. The true portal is within, always open, wherever you are.

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