You're entering a sacred place. What do you do?

You can't just saunter in, doing nothing, as if it were (say) some big box store. It's a sacred place; going in means something.

So what do you do?

Some reach down and touch the ground. (If you're reading this, I probably don't need to tell you why you would do this.) In practice, this often means that you touch the threshold of the temple.

What comes next is up to you. Some people touch their hearts, some (with a kiss) their lips. Some touch their brows. I usually touch all three: In my heart, on my lips, in my thoughts.

Or some variation thereof. The deeply pious may bow down and kiss the Earth. Those of us who aren't as spry as we used to be may settle for kissing the doorposts of the temple. (I love the doorposts of your house, goes the old song.)

So much for entering. How do you leave a sacred place?

Again, some sort of acknowledging gesture seems indicated. It seems to me right to do as one does on entering: In my heart, on my lips, in my thoughts.

This, however, creates an awkwardness: it leaves me exiting the temple while pointing my butt towards the main locus of sanctity. This seems, shall we say, inelegant, if not downright rude.

Last weekend, I offered the morning incense before the altar in the Great Circle at Sweetwood Temenos along with a dear friend and colleague.

As we went out, he first stepped out of the circle. Then he turned to face inward and touched the ground,  just as he had on entering. In my heart, on my lips, in my thoughts.

An elegant solution, and one that I plan to imitate.

When in doubt, consult precedent.

In the absence of precedent, consult your peers.