A letter to the network, with their eyes closed

Dear butterflies, 

Do you remember that day last summer? When we breathed together in the hum of the arsenal? The clinking of coffee cups being shuttled away in a back room, children running in the grass, the curtains very gently swaying in the summer air. 

I looked out at all of you. The tops of each of your heads, like sea anemone, pulsating with colour and movement as you settled into your seats.  

And then I saw your eyes. Hundreds of eyes. First, looking directly at me. Through me. In connection. I began to speak, to deliver the meditation, unpractised but true. And slowly, each of your eyes began to drift, each lid lowered, each eyelash fluttered to a close.  

And my eyes, open, got to bear witness to it all. This alchemy that we accidentally created on that afternoon. 

Somehow, the fibres of each of your bodies found a way to settle into synchronous stillness as I continued to speak. Your inhale, your exhale: I saw you all rise and fall. The energy in the room, which we created together, for those very few minutes, aligned physically in each of you. 

You, who came from other storylines to join this one.  

With my eyes open, the only one in the room, I caught the glimpse of what fuels us as network. For those few minutes, we were hundreds in alignment. And it made me realise if we can do that for a few moments, then we can do it for a few more. And then a few more… 

Until we are not just breathing together, we are moving together.  
Until we are not just moving together, we are swimming together.  
Until we are not just swimming, we are soaring. 
Until we are many, together. 

I could see it because my eyes were open.  
I hope you could feel it with your eyes closed. 

Love, 
Maya

This letter is a part of Culture Action Europe’s At the Heart series, “Love Letters to Culture.”

This February, we’re inviting hosts of the upcoming 2026 Satellite BEYOND events to write their own love letter. 

Not necessarily to a person, but to something that holds meaning within their Satellites: a location, an object, a site, an event, a fleeting moment between people, or something more abstract, like potential, hope, care, continuity. These letters speak to what members love about culture, why this matters where they are, and what makes their Satellite more than just a programme.

This February, we will have the intimate privilege of seeing where care blossoms across our network’s communities. Learn more and join us at a Satellite near you.