Friday, June 27, 2014

A breath and a prayer

I was raised Catholic back in the 50's.  Prayer, as I saw it, was a type of desperate pleading to a judgmental higher power, because we were all unworthy and powerless.  It stopped making sense to me many years ago, as I started to question who I was and what God really meant in my world.

Over the years I went on a quest by attending other churches, studying different types of spirituality and even spent time with some wonderful Native American friends attending their ceremonies.  I think their belief that we are all one and that everything is connected made the most sense to me.  I still have a sacred Golden Eagle feather given to me by them, a healing stone acquired at a Sundance Ceremony and some sage that I occasionally pray with when I am moved to do so.




As I went through my day, I felt that this evening would be a good time to bring out my special feather, stone and sage.  I will light the sage and bless myself and the universe with it's scented smoke.  As it wafts out into the into the evening sky over the lake, I will send my prayers and love along with it,  knowing that they will come to rest as gentle as a butterfly in the hearts of the intended.



But I discovered today that there is another way to pray that requires no artifacts or effort.  It is as simple as breathing and perhaps the most profound.  At a gentle yoga class, as we were being quietly directed to focus on our breath, I found myself thinking of those that I wanted to send blessings to....... and suddenly I felt my breath become their breath.  Then my breath became one breath with everyone else that was sending love and light to them.  We were one breath and one prayer.  Connected.  It was a powerful moment.

As the class ended we sat with our legs crossed and our hands folded to our hearts.  The final words were, "May you be happy.  May you be healthy.  May you be peaceful.  Namaste."  It was the perfect prayer and it was as simple as breathing.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Thoughts on love from my swing


I have had a deep and singular love for one small place on this big planet all of my life.  No matter where I have gone over the years, I eventually felt an undeniable call to return to my sacred life-giving lake.

I have a special place to sit where my mind immediately grows calm.  I am no longer thinking as my senses completely tune in to my surroundings.  My tree swing hangs from a big maple tree a few feet from the water's edge.  Part of the ritual involves having my bare feet connect to the earth in the grass beneath me.  It is believed by some that the earth has healing properties that are conducted through your bare feet.  I know that this place heals me everyday.

The unique smell of my lake wafting on a summer wind always engulfs me in a wave of emotion akin to love. The sound of it's waves lapping on the shore is surely the sweetest music I shall ever hear, and the countless sunsets I have witnessed from my swing never lose their magic.

Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night to sit in my swing beneath a dome of brilliant stars.  It is so calm that I can hear the owls calling to each other in the woods across the water and the frogs singing far down in the marsh.  This is my church and my God, and I am one with all of it.

Perhaps this lake is the love of my life.