Praying

Praying

I came back from teaching a workshop in Ireland to hear, and see, the devastation one single tornado brought to Joplin, Missouri. 

I thought of Japan and the devastation there.  I felt in my body the impulse to block all this suffering out. 

What is there to do?  Give money, yes.  I felt the helplessness of not knowing what to do for all those who suffer, whose lives are devastated from tornadoes, tsunamis, mental illness, addictions….

I realized all I really had was my ability to pray, to meditate, to take on the suffering of others in my heart, to help metabolize the pain. 

I realized I felt the conflict of wanting, needing a personal God, the God of my Christian upbringing and the incredible influences the Eastern traditions of emptiness and compassion and letting go of self cherishing have had on me.

I wanted an answer, a how-to guide for taking away the suffering of others.  Instead I sat with the sadness, bearing in some small way what others are dealing with.  Trusting that my sitting with, metabolizing with these unknown others makes a difference.  

Sometimes all there is to do is to pray in whatever way works. 

David Whyte’s poem Self Portrait kept coming back to me, over and over again.

It doesn’t interest me if there is one God
or many gods.
I want to know if you belong or feel abandoned.
If you know despair or can see it in others.
I want to know if you are prepared to live in the world
with its harsh need to change you.

If you can look back with firm eyes
saying this is where I stand.

I want to know if you know
how to melt into that fierce heat of living
falling toward the center of your longing.

I want to know
if you are willing
to live, day by day, with the consequence of love
and the bitter unwanted passion of your sure defeat.

I have heard, in that fierce embrace, even
the gods speak of God.
—David Whyte