The sun outside is hot and bright on a late June afternoon. Walking around the streets of Milan we finally stumble upon the Duomo of this city. Upon arriving in the square in front of the west door, we are careful to avoid walking in front of other tourists snapping shots of the building. Feeding the pigeons here also seems like quite the touristy-thing-to-do, as we see several buskers selling seeds and offering to take Polaroids of you posing with the birds and the cathedral.
After spending quite some time admiring the sculptures and symbols carved into the facade of the building, we finally climb up the front steps. The cool air that greets us on the threshold and we enter the building.
I have always found churches to be absolutely wonderfully quieting. We slowly make our way forward and slide into one of the wooden pews a third of the way up the centre aisle. Though there are probably a couple hundred people in the building, the space absorbs and softens their rustling to a white noise which is easily dismissed.
After taking some time to simply be in the space, I finally get up to walk around and look at the stained glass, side chapels and decorations that fill the Duomo. I also allow myself one of my favorite church pleasures - I take off my shoes. Having my bare feet on the cool stone floor always connects me to the place more than any other single thing. Here, there is a softness to the floor, and the texture of the different stones that have been inlaid to create the patterns only adds to the movement I can feel through me feet.
I am very thankful to have found this personal way of connecting with the buildings of the church. I believe that every space for prayer and meditation should be comfortable and supportive. In the end, a building is only a building, and the value of a place of worship should be about the connection to something greater.
taken June 2010, Duomo di Milano, Milan
