Monday, November 03, 2003

  • As a child, growing up Catholic, I was taught the proper way to pray.  On your knees; hands folded, pointing toward heaven; eyes closed; head bowed.  God would not listen to you otherwise, to pray otherwise was disrespectful and showing a lack of fear for His (most definitely "His") magnificence .  When I was making my First Holy Communion  we were told by the IHM Sisters to hold our folded hands at our chests, fingers straight up to God.  If we failed to do it, they told us they would wire our hands there.  Nonsense, of course, but to a seven year old that knows the power of a nun...this was a sincere threat.  I mention this because I want to present my history regarding prayer.  Formal, one-sided, begging for forgiveness and taking the punishment (penance) with a smile.  When I moved on to college, I prayed, but not consciously and not frequently.  I was free, you see. 

    Times have changed for me. 

    Prayer.  Meditation.  Quiet time.  Dance.  Song.  Written word.  These are just a few examples of how I connect with Spirit... connect with the Universe.  Most times, I choose to meditate or dance.  When I say that it sounds like I think I'm some master of meditation or something, but I'm not...I'm learning.  It's a hard thing to do...to completely quiet your mind.  I can honestly say that I rarely achieve that fully.   Still, I can hear God when my mind is busy, just not as clearly.  That's what meditation is to me...listening or just being with Spirit.  I like to think of it as hanging out with God.  No requests.  No salutations.  Just being with All That Is.

    I still pray in a sort of traditional sense.  At times, I fold my hands and close my eyes.  I don't feel the need to kneel, as I'm usually laying in bed trying not to fall asleep.  I don't beg.  I give thanks.  I thank God for the life I am enabled to live, should I choose to follow my highest self.  I thank God for that most promising opportunity.  I give thanks that God knows all that I need and provides it, before I even ask.  I pray for well-being of others...my family, my friends, my enemies, the sick, the sad, the abused, the mean-spirited.  I think of prayer as a chance to talk to God, while she listens.

    There is another way I pray, a subconscious sort of prayer.  Throughout my day, while folding laundry, making dinner, playing, whatever...I try to offer it up as prayer.  The crappy stuff I do, most especially, I try to offer up.  This doesn't stop me from bitching about it, but it's a start.  I just try to find the beauty in something around me...that is prayer.  To recognize the genius of the morning mist in the woods burning off in the early afternoon sun.  To see the complexity of such a thing and then realize that this is just an atom in the infinite galaxy of God's works.  To recognize this...that, too, is prayer.

    All ways to God are true.  I know that God doesn't care how a I pray, like any loving parent, he just wants to hear from me.  God doesn't care about "fearing" him or how I am dressed or how I hold my hands, she just wants to have the opportunity to talk to me.  All communication, regardless of the language/faith/culture, is welcomed by Spirit. 

    Once I learned this, I found it comforting and easy to pray.  Easy as calling my Mom on the phone or writing a letter.  God knows me, everything about me, there is no need for pretense. 

    Again, I was free.  I am free.  I am spiritually free to love my God the way that feels right for me and it's okay.  It is.

    She told me.

    Thanks for reading.

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