So did we say a prayer today ?

shekhar

For who ? For ourselves. Did we do something, some ritual that affirmed our faith today ? In what ? In ourselves. Our ability to connect with our inner selves. For if we do not, who is this person that is working, loving, talking etc. It’s certainly not you.


It’s an everyday search for me. For that something that can put me in touch with myself. My connection to consciousness. My connection to loving nature.
Of course many people have faith. Which is a wonderful ability. I don’t have blind faith. I am more of a searcher. Questioner. Good, bad ? I don’t know. No value judgements on any faith or the question of faith. Or on myself.
Some people do it with meditation first thing in the morning. I have never been able to do that. I have to connect to something, however small, however little, to loose my sense of individuality. That’s the daily struggle. Against my own exaggarated sense of myself. I am so used to it. I have relied on it for so many years. So tough to let go now. Not that I have never questioned it before. But now, it is really important for me to be truly ‘active’ rather than ‘reactive’, which is what I have done most of my life. And how do I know what that ‘true’ action is ? Unless I am constantly in touch with something larger, more immense, more universal than myself ?
Yes I know. By letting go. By allowing yourself not to be addicted to the result of your action. By allowing chaos to invade your life. Yes, I agree. All of that. I do allow chaos to prevade in my life. I am impeteous (spelling). But then the individual in me fights back hard.
It’s an everyday battle. This battle to let go of one’s addiction to one’s sense of individuality.
Yet, the smallest of things can provoke the sensing of my flowing into something much much larger. Something infinite.
This morning it was my 5 year old daughter waking me up with a loud ‘Peekaboo’ and the tinkling of an early morning laugh.
Sometimes it;s just getting up early enough to watch the first shades of dark blue brush across the sky. Something deeply stirring about that.
Sometimes it’s unexpected gestures of affection that were not sought. Or given so instinctually that you were not aware of them.
Sometimes, it’s writing a poem. But only if the words are coming from somewhere else. As if something is flowing through you, a river of emotion you can physically feel that flows through your being.
But it is always so unexpected. So much that I am constantly aware now. My senses hightened. Waiting for that unexpected moment.
When something deeper will reach out and engulf me, and give my life, and all my actions, however small, a deeper and all encompassing context. On a daily basis.
So say a prayer for me. And for yourself.
Shekhar

1,527 thoughts on “So did we say a prayer today ?”

  2. A prayer for everyone…

    that we are more aware, kind, understanding,
    respectful of ourselves and towards each other

    aum

  7. Grateful for this space to express
    thoughts
    an intention
    a prayer
    an offering
    creativity in the moment
    reflections of what was and is
    nothing

    aum

  8. Love to ALL

    Global citiZEN artists, organizers, supports, behind the scenes workers, and
    everyone who contributed to the GlobalCitizenLive worldwide event.

    aum

  10. “Unprepared:
    and even now I find myself unprepared – after several years of a slow decline, multiple stays in the hospital for pneumonia, surviving stroke, cancer and many other ails; my father returns home today from his last hospital stay to hospice care. He’ll be made as comfortable as possible, his family present, and pass away when his time arrives. As his caregiver Iv’e dealt with this through all practical purposes, tending through the progression of illness, adjusting, carrying on. I know exactly what’s to come, a final breath won’t catch me by surprise. Yet still, somehow, I’m unprepared for this.
    there is no easy way of letting go.
    not that I thought there would be; I’m well versed in loss, from sitting at my mom’s bedside in her final days with Alzheimer’s (a disease of constant loss) to my own divorce that broke me to my core. Covid has wiped out my business and caused distance between myself and much that I love. With life loss continues and there’s grace in this acceptance.
    and I do accept what’s coming, as I have with every previous loss.
    but still I’m unprepared – this is a complete surrender of role, of my story as caregiver, son, and the last of family that truly cares for my well being. From this point on it’s all unknown. It’s such mixed grief, as much for myself too, losing that last vistage of purpose, my sole role of offering care, and now moving further to uncertainty. I’m unprepared to lose this story.
    during this past hospital stay, my mind would often wander to routines established with my dad, the set times for medicine, our walks, each one growing a bit more difficult by the day, but still we persisted to maintain as much well being as the moment would provide. Even yesterday, his breath and speech both with struggle, he talked more of what he would like to do than he did of loss. It’s not that he’s afraid of letting go, he’s always been pragmatic and has faced his every condition with courage – he simply wishes to participate with life through every moment with as much ease, joy, and grace as will be allowed. He’s willing to work for it, to make the effort of living well and with dignity.
    even as he’s dying.
    so, this is where we are, it’s where I am – lost and unprepared, afraid, uncertain. With my father’s example ever present I stay honest with this, participating with the moment at hand, allowing life to handle the details of surrender. Letting go isn’t an action taken, it’s the natural sweep of life, from the known to unknown, a gateway into mystery. My role is to be present, available for grief to find me, to not hide from my fear and uncertainty, not project false pretense onto what the moment holds. Allowing and letting go are common bonds, kin in their connection. Yes, I’m unprepared, even now, and will be for every moment on. There is no real preparation for something final, but life is still in motion, becoming something other through the very instant of this letting go. With this – I am already surrendered, allowing whatever’s present to simply be.
    there’s nothing more to do.
    ~
    Peace, Eric”
    (Eric McCarty October 1, 2021)

  11. “Such was his way:
    yesterday, my father returned home from the hospital to enter hospice care. Everything was set up for him to be comfortable and at peace, a visit from his nurse, questions concerning his illness in which my father participation veered in the course of his customary storytelling, along with voicing his concern for my own well being. He always wished the best for me even through the course of his own suffering.
    such was his way.
    minutes before the day was to turn to morning, I woke from a light sleep to sounds of my father distressed, agitated and came down to check his needs. He was unable to rest and asked for another sleep aid, telling me his usual trick of counting numbers in a particular order wasn’t working. Only a few minutes later my father passed away.
    he didn’t quite make it to the new day.
    honestly I have no idea what to write, if this is about my father, death, my own grief and struggle. All of it perhaps, a bit of everything. What I do is write, sharing my experience of moments that have a certain meaning to me, airing my thoughts to whoever happens to find my words. It’s similar to my father’s storytelling, just my way.
    little of what I write is planned, and there’s as much time waiting for words to appear as there is actual writing. There’s always a pause, free of expectations, and then a flow of words. I’ve learned to sit with stillness, a long silence that is its own reward.
    so I sat with my father for a while in the early morning, hours before dawn, facing the day he didn’t quite reach. I held his hand and sat through the longest silence of my life, devastated by his stillness and yet sensing his peace, no longer a struggle for breath, but still somehow able to share his presence with me through these moments. From the depth of this stillness, no longer a place for words, he brought me peace, offered me a bit of grace in a moment most needed.
    such was his way.
    ~
    Peace, Eric”
    (Eric McCarty – October 1, 2021)

  13. Yet another misuse of language to divide people.

    All people are of some

    specific colour,

    there are no groups who are coloured

    and some not, we are all coloured.

  16. some comments are showing up with
    question marks instead of the heart
    and other kinds of emojis.
    how easy it is for the computer to cause
    a message to appear not as originally sent.

    aum

  25. Oneness by Thich Nhat Hanh
    The moment I die,
    I will try to come back to you
    as quickly as possible.
    I promise it will not take long.
    Isn’t it true
    I am already with you,
    as I die each moment?
    I come back to you
    in every moment.
    Just look,
    feel my presence.
    If you want to cry,
    please cry.
    And know
    that I will cry with you.
    The tears you shed
    will heal us both.
    Your tears are mine.
    The earth I tread this morning
    transcends history.
    Spring and Winter are both present in the moment.
    The young leaf and the dead leaf are really one.
    My feet touch deathlessness,
    and my feet are yours.
    Walk with me now.
    Let us enter the dimension of oneness
    and see the cherry tree blossom in Winter.
    Why should we talk about death?
    I don’t need to die
    to be back with you.
    Published in Call Me by My True Names by Thich Nhat Hanh (1993)

  26. “To be beautiful means to be yourself. You don’t need to be accepted by others. You need to accept yourself.”
    ? Thich Nhat Hanh

  27. The candle is gone
    The light is still here
    Such is the nature of this light.

    Lata Mangeshkar passed away at the age of 92.
    rest in peace and love, Om Shanti

  29. 22:22-22-02-2022
    will not occur at anytime in history
    again, unless future timegivers start over from
    zero.

    also,
    any moment here and gone or coming might have the
    same fate as significant as these numbers, stars, events
    whatevers

  30. yes, everyday is a prayer, a breath of life, sometimes stifled and shortened, sometimes flowing and at ease and other ways too…a prayer to breathe easy and mindfully, everyday is a prayer of gratitude, sadness, willingness, quiet moments, turbulent messes and so much more, everyday is a prayer

  35. Ceylon Cinnamon

    the devotion, hard work, long laborious hours,
    pride and integrity in the process…

    aum

  37. what is this aspect of our humaness which causes us to tolerate violent acts against each other? conditioning, learned, genetics, external influences, greed, control…etc? What part of our consciousness turns so cold that empathy compassion and love get blocked?

  43. some thoughts on memory:

    I was wondering about memories and how they are stored, a thought came to mind when I noticed the difference between the file draw with papers stored vertically, and a stack of papers on my desk stored horizontally. The vertical papers in the file draw requires a shifting of papers and information can be easily seen while fanning though, with the stack on the desk I have to lift up each one and also hold the weight of the lifted ones to see the others under them. What if we consciously stored our memories in a vertical pattern, whether it’s metaphorically or physically visually intended, would it be more accessible and efficient to retrieve a memory (ie. car keys) using this manner of storage?
    Are music pieces stored in a vertical pattern in humans and this is why people who have dementia etc. connect with music easier than trying to remember information not attached to a melody or rhythm? ? hmm
    Is it why young children and others tend to learn a piece of information easier when the information is accompanied by a melody and rhythm? ?hmm

    just some ideas floating by this morning…

  44. My Ma passed on 25 years ago, May 20.
    She was a strong, compassionate loving lady.
    She had an independent thinking mind,
    and is an inspiration for much of anything I do
    that resembles ‘kindness’.
    Thank you Ma, I love you, forever always.
    Chinda

  45. if you don’t like someone
    chances are most things they do
    will not be ‘good enough’

  46. this wind…blows me off to other imaginary lands where peace
    love comfort belongingness are the characteristics of a well cared for land
    ocean breezes of what once was so very before long ago…
    aum

  49. what’s love got to do with it?
    nothing and everything…it’s that simple and complex

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