Prayer
by Josephine Laing
I love what Houston Smith has said about prayer. He said that there are three types of prayers. The first is the asking prayer. "Help me." I think this is a very powerful prayer and so often we forget to ask. The second is the prayer of gratitude. "Thank you." And the third, my favorite, is the prayer of silent union with the Divine. This happens when we loose all sense of self and become completely absorbed in what we are doing, we become one with everything while joyfully participating in something that we really love.
I can remember splashing and playing in the water as a child, or flying down the beach, bareback on Duchess, as she really let her self go flat out. Dancing with friends, lost in the joy, a woman deep in her bead work, a musician bowing her cello, these are also times when one can slip out of self and enter into the great Universal Flow.
To me, God is love. There is no gender involved. There are no lightning bolts of retribution. There is not even any need for mercy because there is no guilt or shame, there is just experience, experience which helps us to move closer to love or that lets us know when we've moved farther away from love.
One of my favorite "Help me," stories happened last year to my friend Helena. She was zooming along on the freeway, driving home. There was a semi truck and trailer behind her and as she crested a little hill she saw that the car in front of her had stopped in her lane. She hit the brakes hard, the semi was bearing down on her fast, there was no opening to her left nor to her right. She could see that there was not enough space behind her for the semi to stop. So she closed her eyes for a second and screamed "Help me." Then she popped her eyes open and miraculously the whole scene was behind her and she could see in her rear view mirror that no one was hurt. The semi was stopped right where her vehicle would have been, exactly on the tail of the car that had been in front of her. She called me shortly after she got home. She was still dazed and amazed by the experience since it didn't make sense in normal time and space reality. But I know and have witnessed much that happens in these lives of ours that doesn't quite fit into our usual models of perception. When we relinquish our beliefs about what can and can't happen, we can open up to so much more.
I think one of the finest prayers of gratitude was written by e.e. cummings in his poem form. When I open the shutters and greet the day each morning, I recite his poem and round it off with a few others that I've come across or come up with on my own. Together they go like this:
"Thank you God for most this amazing day. For the leaping greenly spirits of trees and the true blue dream of sky and for everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes. I who have died am alive again today. And this is the sun's birthday. This is the birthday of laughter and of love and of wings and of the great gay happening illimitable earth. How can any, tasting, touching, seeing, feeling, hearing, human merely being, doubt unimaginable you. Now the ears of my ears awake. Now the eyes of my eyes are opened." Then, "Oh Creator, God of Truth, God of Love, I accept all blessing s of truth at this time. I am ready for the new, I welcome the abundance." As I spread my arms up and out and then open them wide, I say, "Divine Spirit of my Higher Self, Creator, God of Truth, God of Love, Thank You Everything for Everything! And so it is."
I've heard it said that prayer is the way that we speak to God and meditation is the way that we listen. And my definition of meditation is very broad. I think we enter into this listening state whenever we quiet ourselves down enough to allow a flow. It can come while we're walking the dog, or sitting on the porch-swing with our feet up after a long day at work. Or, my favorite, whenever we are quiet and relaxed out in nature. Suddenly, the answers to our problems, or the next step we should take just pops into our heads. It's easy to find that silent union with the divine when we are mingling with Divine Creation, the Garden. And that can be right in our own backyards.
In light of this Thanksgiving week, I'll close with my favorite non-denominational mealtime prayer.
"From the earth we receive and so learn to give.
Together we share, and so we live."
Enjoy your Thanksgiving. May it be filled with the great blessings of love and of joy.
© 2011 Josephine Laing
I love what Houston Smith has said about prayer. He said that there are three types of prayers. The first is the asking prayer. "Help me." I think this is a very powerful prayer and so often we forget to ask. The second is the prayer of gratitude. "Thank you." And the third, my favorite, is the prayer of silent union with the Divine. This happens when we loose all sense of self and become completely absorbed in what we are doing, we become one with everything while joyfully participating in something that we really love.
I can remember splashing and playing in the water as a child, or flying down the beach, bareback on Duchess, as she really let her self go flat out. Dancing with friends, lost in the joy, a woman deep in her bead work, a musician bowing her cello, these are also times when one can slip out of self and enter into the great Universal Flow.
To me, God is love. There is no gender involved. There are no lightning bolts of retribution. There is not even any need for mercy because there is no guilt or shame, there is just experience, experience which helps us to move closer to love or that lets us know when we've moved farther away from love.
One of my favorite "Help me," stories happened last year to my friend Helena. She was zooming along on the freeway, driving home. There was a semi truck and trailer behind her and as she crested a little hill she saw that the car in front of her had stopped in her lane. She hit the brakes hard, the semi was bearing down on her fast, there was no opening to her left nor to her right. She could see that there was not enough space behind her for the semi to stop. So she closed her eyes for a second and screamed "Help me." Then she popped her eyes open and miraculously the whole scene was behind her and she could see in her rear view mirror that no one was hurt. The semi was stopped right where her vehicle would have been, exactly on the tail of the car that had been in front of her. She called me shortly after she got home. She was still dazed and amazed by the experience since it didn't make sense in normal time and space reality. But I know and have witnessed much that happens in these lives of ours that doesn't quite fit into our usual models of perception. When we relinquish our beliefs about what can and can't happen, we can open up to so much more.
I think one of the finest prayers of gratitude was written by e.e. cummings in his poem form. When I open the shutters and greet the day each morning, I recite his poem and round it off with a few others that I've come across or come up with on my own. Together they go like this:
"Thank you God for most this amazing day. For the leaping greenly spirits of trees and the true blue dream of sky and for everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes. I who have died am alive again today. And this is the sun's birthday. This is the birthday of laughter and of love and of wings and of the great gay happening illimitable earth. How can any, tasting, touching, seeing, feeling, hearing, human merely being, doubt unimaginable you. Now the ears of my ears awake. Now the eyes of my eyes are opened." Then, "Oh Creator, God of Truth, God of Love, I accept all blessing s of truth at this time. I am ready for the new, I welcome the abundance." As I spread my arms up and out and then open them wide, I say, "Divine Spirit of my Higher Self, Creator, God of Truth, God of Love, Thank You Everything for Everything! And so it is."
I've heard it said that prayer is the way that we speak to God and meditation is the way that we listen. And my definition of meditation is very broad. I think we enter into this listening state whenever we quiet ourselves down enough to allow a flow. It can come while we're walking the dog, or sitting on the porch-swing with our feet up after a long day at work. Or, my favorite, whenever we are quiet and relaxed out in nature. Suddenly, the answers to our problems, or the next step we should take just pops into our heads. It's easy to find that silent union with the divine when we are mingling with Divine Creation, the Garden. And that can be right in our own backyards.
In light of this Thanksgiving week, I'll close with my favorite non-denominational mealtime prayer.
"From the earth we receive and so learn to give.
Together we share, and so we live."
Enjoy your Thanksgiving. May it be filled with the great blessings of love and of joy.
© 2011 Josephine Laing