Chance Caring

In keeping with honestly facing what’s real, I’m going just say it:

                                                     we all pray a lot.

I am not even including or referring to those whose present prayer practice involves repeating and reciting someone else’s words, over and over again (mantra anyone?) and hoping and*or finding some relief or comfort, that we may become sufficiently motivated or ‘moved’ for us to continue to try our best to be ‘good’…redemption always being an added possible perk.

                                                               And

I am definitely not even close to saying, in any form or fashion, that ritual praying is wrong, valueless, or phony. Nothing is wrong, valueless, or phony if our hearts are genuinely open to the kindness, compassion, and goodness behind the words being aired. The grace and relief are in the sincere feeling of the words, not their correct enunciation, pronunciation, or sequence.

We remind one another, when we are in the truth of love, that there is no path that won’t or doesn’t lead us to love, when and as we use love as our guide and not our thinking about what love might or might not want. Love does not want.

Love loves. If love is my shepherd, I shall not want.

As we let caring lead us, we feel better…even if the caring didn’t go ‘as planned’…we realize that sincerely trying is worthwhile in itself (dare we say, good? Better than holding back?)…

How’s now, for example? 

Is there any chance of honestly caring about the person in your immediate vicinity—the “right this instant” vicinity—stranger or acquaintance (don’t want to risk a family member yet) whom you can acknowledge in a warm, sincere, respectful tone or fashion? …come on, you know the tone or honest look I mean, the one you frequently use when you truly want to convey earnestly to someone, so that they ‘know,’ that you really care. Do you wanna try risking a smile from an equal to and for an equal?

This is simply being a decent human decently being human. Caring is such a low bar, hardly a hurdle, which we seem to trip over so constantly…or to balk at so frequently… 

That’s when we silently pray…deep within…so deep that sometimes we don’t even catch it consciously as a thought…it’s simply an exhale flirting with becoming a sigh…it’s at the instant of choosing to care, the daring to be caring moment, that we mutter wordlessly, irreverently, wryly to ourselves:

                              “oh god help me, here I go again.”

This prayer is as instantly answered as it was spontaneously formed.

Trust love.

It was promised that what we truly seek, we will always find.

And the door knocked upon is the door that will be opened. 

Don’t forget to remember…

Paradoxically unfinished

Softly embraced