Buttering the Sky
On my shoes,
Buttering the sky:
That should be enough contact
With God in one day
To make anyone
This morning, a foggy easy Sunday morning here in the city, Rachelle Mee-Chapman asked this question of her friends:
What feels like prayer to you today?
Such a rich and provocative question…
While prayer is for each day and every day, today is Sunday.
On Sundays, dance is my usual form of prayer, the dance floor my church. There is no dance on Labor Day Sunday, though, as the big Sausalito art fair takes over the town.
So, today I write. The empty page is also my church, and writing another form of prayer.
Today, I sit in this warm and inviting cafe writing, and I consider her question.
I listen to voices sprinkling words through the air, trying to communicate as best they can what wants to be said.
I hear laughter.
I hear English and French.
I hear people who are hungry and thirsty, ordering nourishment for their bodies.
I hear people hungry and thirsty for more than food, perhaps communicating with each other to feed more than their bodies…to feed their souls.
I’ve been noticing, just this week, how much I ‘think’ my life.
When I think my life, my body feels tight, constricted and stressed.
When I ‘think’ my life, I push and strive.
When I ‘think’ my life, it is just me by myself trying to carry the heavy load that I learned to carry. The load is indicative of something I have to do, somewhere I have to get, someone I have to be. It’s all some kind of illusion my mind keeps creating.
Life as Prayer
Rachelle’s question and Hafiz’s words bring me back to reality, the reality of Life simply unfolding…Life as Prayer.
Today it was the mundane act of grocery shopping and stopping the automatic list-driven purchasing to get myself an orchid. i stopped and looked into it and it was holy, i was holy, the whole grocery store was holy.