Reflections On Prayer

When I was in fourth grade, one of my classmates was the local minister’s daughter. She wasn’t very likeable – snobbish and condescending – but I did think a preacher was something I’d like to be. Whether that was from a desire to talk about God, or that the thought of someone actually listening to me was so appealing, I’m not sure. But now, after almost four decades leading vision quests, I occasionally think that all I really do is pray for folks, and I’ve been told innumerable times how much those prayers have touched people.

Prayer is a way of connecting with something larger than ourselves. Everyone needs three things to have a fulfilling life. First is a place of safety, a place where we’re welcomed and feel like, “I belong here.” People also need a sense that what they say and do makes a difference… a sense that their actions and presence in the world is important.” And lastly, we need a connection with something greater than ourselves.

Many call this “God,” “Great Spirit,” or “Higher Power” … or it could be our country, family, or community, but it needs to be something larger than our personal “self.” That self is too small, isolated, and frail to track or even be aware of all the unconscious forces that drive it.

Ultimately, prayer is an offering from the “Known” to the “Unknown.” Some people have a general aversion or resistance to ritual, and prayer in particular, because as children they were force-fed a certain type of prayer or religion with gods or deities that make no sense or even seem toxic. But prayer, in its most basic form, is an energetic opening to the unknown, a way of establishing a connection between yourself and all that lies outside the boundaries and definitions that make up the sense of “me. “

When I pray, I speak from the known. I speak from whatever makes up my sense of self. I use the concepts of the language I learned (English). I speak from what I know, from the “I,” from, my memories, values, and the story I tell that makes up “me.” I speak with the understanding of a man of a certain age, with certain experiences, hopes, dreams, interests and longings. And all of that is The Known, all of that goes by the name “Sparrow.”.

But what I am speaking to is something that lies outside all of that. I speak to that that great mystery through which all life and awareness emerges. I use the words Great Mystery (or sometimes “Spirit that moves through all things”) because they evoke the Unknown, while all other versions — God, Jesus, Allah, or Divine Mother — represent particular ideas and concepts, they symbolize something known.

It’s well-accepted that we use 10% or less of our brains. If true, you might consider prayer to be a heartfelt attempt on the part of that 10% to initiate communications, through words, with the other, far larger 90% of which we’re ignorant. Attempts to diminish or define the unknown and turn it into the known — such as seeing God as a man with a gray beard — is a caricature of the real meaning of prayer.

And like any skill, prayer can be done well or poorly. Speaking from the heart is a central part of all meaningful prayer, and there’s a saying that there are only two kinds of prayer. The first is, “Help me; please help me,” and the second is “Thank you, Great Mystery; thank you.”

I’ve begun my mornings with prayer for decades, beginning in the early 1980s when apprenticing with a medicine teacher named Sun Bear. He began his day by going outdoors, lighting sage, and praying. That felt good to me, and I followed suit, and since 1981 I begin most days with a sincere attempt to connect with something larger than myself.

This is a small ritual, taking at most 10 minutes. But the practice of beginning my days by connecting to the great mystery and expressing gratitude, repeated consistently, has, I think, changed me. It’s taught me to look around and see what there is to be thankful for. It’s expanded my sense of self, as I show up and engage with the present in ways that move me beyond the everyday self. It’s a practice of removing this “I” from the center of the universe. And when the self is shrunk and removed from the center, the world around us expands correspondingly.

All spiritual traditions involve forms and practices to break the obsession with the self, to move it out of the center of our attention and open to that vaster, unexplored realm beyond what we know.

In Putney, Vermont, where I live, there are hundreds of enormous oak trees on the hill to the West, and every fall, thousands of acorns come raining down. I think we come into life like that acorn. There’s something small within us that has the potential to become a beautiful oak… that has the potential to grow, expand, seek the light, flower, bear fruit and bring something magnificent into the world.

I think the Mystery has planted seeds within us, and the role of our conscious self is to find the ways to nurture, fertilize, and cultivate those seeds so that we might grow into who we have the potential to become.

So, Great Mystery, Spirit-that-moves-through-all-things, thank you for this day. Thank you for life, my life, our lives. Thank you for one more chance to wake up on this beautiful earth… one more chance to open our eyes, ears, our imaginations, minds, and hearts to what’s all around and within us.