Friday, June 26, 2020
Prayer comes in disguises...
Considering what to write about this month, prayer is forefront. Demonstrations are happening around the globe as the COVID is seemingly catching its breath. Under the threat of a pandemic, in spite of the violence, the rubber bullets, and the flash grenades, the walkers just keep coming. And in such times as these praying needs to hit the streets.
Like fingerprints, praying is different for each of us humans. Some of us pray without saying prayers, some use words, and some have different physical positionings. Others sacrifice their lives as do the caregivers going to work each morning in a pandemic and some walk their prayer. Five hundred doctors in Russia have died and that is probably the least of it. In fact, whatever the religion, non-religion, or nationality, praying is a heart business, a compassion business. Are not the demonstrators walking for justice, fairness, and for healing?
Yet, how do I pray? It all seems too big, too overwhelming. Where do I start and would it do any good anyway? However, I do have to join them. An inner voice says, "Take the leap." Looking out over the bay and beyond, I slip down from my head, that place of conventional reality that keeps telling me, my little prayer won't work. Then entering my house of compassion, hope, and daring, I know differently. The heart is never overwhelmed. Here is where I can sync with the walkers and the caregivers. This is not about being religious, or pious; this praying is about vision and humanity evolving.
This prayer, I can feel. As the days pass and in spite of all our human imperfections, it dawns on me, I am watching a flowing, golden river, not separate walkers. They are desiring and demanding something fairer, more just, and more caring in this world. A slice of humanity struggling for a new paradigm of meaning.
Now I am part of the river. It is beautiful, elegant -- a heart and mind coherence transforming us en route. City buildings form the banks as its water spills out into parks and thoroughfares -- cautiously beaconing us each to a new spring and to be a living prayer.
While I was writing this piece, I woke one morning to an aliveness in my room. Words fail here, however, I felt silken, gentle waves of energy that I only can call love. Not the conventional "love" but the deep, abiding, faceless source-kind that was flowing through me like a river, through the bed, the air, and then, I realized it flows all the time tangibility through each of us. I began singing quietly the old, worn-out folk song, "Love is flowing like a river, flowing out through you and me..." And I had never sung it or felt like this before.