February 1 Is Not a Sacrament. Every Moment Is.
February 1, 2026
When I wrote the date this morning, the thought came uninvited: I made it.
A date without weight, really—only the first day of a month we agree to call new. Nothing turned. Nothing reset. Time itself remained unmoved.
Time, as I know it, is not a doorway. It is a point. A single place on a long—perhaps endless—line. Not the past, which memory keeps revisiting. Not the future, which imagination rehearses. Just this narrow location where I am allowed to stand.
Yesterday was a hard day.
That may be why the thought lingered. Not because the calendar advanced, but because I am still here. Still breathing. Still present at this point on the line.
I didn’t make it there.
I made it here.
And here is different.
February 1 is not a sacrament.
But this moment is.
I was raised in a tradition that does not have sacraments. I respect them of course. You know I’ve led them. But now that I’m older, I admire the lack of them. It’s not that Quakers think nothing is sacred, it’s just that every moment and every creature and thing are touched by God and thus sacred.
On a side note, the evening of 2/1-the morning of 2/2 is St. Brigid’s day. She is one of the three patron saints of Ireland and is associated with poetry and healing, symbolizing Irish women and faith. It is thus important for my very Irish partner and she celebrates it every year.
I enjoyed this piece for it’s simple way of marking the day and the sacredness of all our days.
geoffknowlton
1 February 2026 at 3:49 pm