What is our Responsibility to Sacred experience?

In my previous post I talked about “what is the sacred” and I wanted to bring us back to some of the words I shared.

To call something sacred is to declare: This matters.
This is worthy of reverence, of stillness, of our full presence and attention.

In that sense then, the sacred invites us to wake up—to move from numbness to attentiveness. It reorients us to what is essential. It is less about belief, and more about attunement. It asks us:
What are you paying attention to in this moment?
Where is your reverence going?

Is it possible that by slowing down, listening deeply, and being fully present—we create the conditions for the sacred to emerge?

And so perhaps then we need to also consider the question what does it mean to live in relationship with the sacred?

It might begin with reverence.
Reverence for life itself—for each other, for the earth, for the mystery of our being here at all.

It might continue with responsibility.
Because when we recognize something as sacred, we treat it differently. We tend it. We protect it. We listen to it.

Today I thought it might be interesting to continue with that question. Once we’ve glimpsed or felt the universe in something — once we’ve felt that quiet spark of aliveness or connection — what then?

What is our responsibility if any to that experience? I came up with 4 thoughts for that questions:

Maybe our first responsibility is simply to remember.
Because it’s easy to forget.
The universe often shows itself in subtle ways — in stillness, in beauty, in the space between things.
And the world moves fast.
So perhaps our responsibility is to keep returning, to keep remembering what matters, what feels magical and mysterious.

Our second responsibility might be to respond with care.
When we recognize something as sacred — whether it’s a person, a place, a moment, or even a truth within ourselves — we begin to treat it differently. Last week several people shared truths that were really meaningful to them…a type of revelation…a realization that there was something important in that recognition.
We listen.
We protect.
We act in ways that honor that recognition with care.— it’s a natural outflow of reverence to a gift that we’ve been given – we treat it with care.

And maybe our third responsibility is to embody it —
to let the experience of the sacred or the universe, shape how we move through the world.
To allow it to soften our edges, deepen our compassion, and remind us of our belonging and connectness.
In that way, the sacred doesn’t stay in one place or moment — it moves through us, and into how we live.

And when we are ready, perhaps the fourth responsibility is to share it.

Not to explain it away or make it someone else’s, or convince someone of it
but to let our reverence be visible.
Perhaps it can be through a kindness offered. A story told. A way of living that quietly says, This matters.
Or it could be that we are vulnerable enough to actually put words to our experience, to share what it feels like to walk in the woods and encounter a place that some people might call holy, or others called energized or how weird a particular synchronicity was that the universe threw our way. By talking about this, it gives people the opportunity to share their stories and to remind each other that we have these things in common.

When we share our experiences, they ripple outward —
not as something to own or prove,
but as something to invite others into.

So when we ask, what is our responsibility to the experience of the sacred?
Perhaps it is this:
To remember it.
To respond with care.
To embody it.
And to share it — gently, freely, as an act of love and wonder and gratitude for the experience we’ve been given.