Prayer and Meditation

 Prayer and meditation are two things that I can't do without.  Prayer and meditation are what keep me sane, calm, and collected.  I can always tell when my life gets out of wack it's because I haven't spent enough time with my Creator.  For me, prayer and meditation are ritualistic.  That's what works for me.  I get up in the morning and roll from my bed to my knees and start with praises to God and then my private prayers.  Yes, I ask God for things and He gives them to me if I can handle them or need them.  Sometimes God says no, but I don't know that or his reasoning why until I spend some time in mediation.  

When we initially start praying and meditation; we get stuck on the praying part.  We talk about things we need, we want, what we want for others, etc. and that's where it stands.  Meditation - listening to God is much harder because we have to quit talking and open our ears to God's voice.  Sometimes we don't really like what God has to say but one thing I know for sure, he won't take you places just to drop you in the middle of chaos.

Rocking Chairs of Dreams

Today I woke early and Bill was on my mind, as he usually is.  I sat in the chair that I always sat in which was across from the chair Bill always sat in, but his chair was empty again.  He and I would sit in our chairs, pray, meditate and search God's will in our lives.  It was a wonderfully spiritual part of our lives and I miss that so badly.  At the end of our "session," he's smile and say, "That's it," and then he's lean over and kiss me. I'd stand and kiss his bald head.  I loved that part of our morning. 

After praying and meditating we'd discuss the world's problems and iron them all out before breakfast.  Mornings were great here and I'm so grateful to have had so many years of them with Bill before he died.  Bill and I had a "pack."  When we both retired we would buy two wooden rocking chairs and set them out on our porch and grow old together.  We'd sit on our rocking chairs and discuss our children, our grand dogs, and our life in general.  That never happened and we never bought those rocking chairs.  We were close, but life took a deadly turn and the dream ended. 
Now I go to Cracker Barrel and places like that and look at all the rocking chairs lined up on their porch and think of all the times Bill and I could have had solving the nation's problems on our own rocking chairs.  I imagine we would sit on the porch, rocking back and forth while the wind chimes surrounding us would catch a breeze and play music for us.  He'd take my hand holding it that special way that only he held my hand.  The dream now is only alive in my brain.  I will never own a rocking chair to put out on my porch.  It's just not meant to be; but I'm okay with that now because I have so many other "real" memories that no one can remove. 

Bill was a sensitive man; a tender man, who rarely raised his voice to his children or me.  He always tried to reason out problems or conflicts.  He was a peacemaker and a man God truly loved.  Bill loved life and found blessings in almost everything; but he was real with God, telling Him when he was upset with Him and when he wanted things to go in a different direction than God planned.  But Bill and I had a saying which we ended with each prayer, "Your will God, not mine."  We both believed that our Higher Power knew what was best for us and what was going to happen down the road.  He had all the blueprints, we had only a piece and we tried to draft the whole blueprint from the tiny piece we were given. 

This morning is one of those mornings when I look at his empty chair and wonder why.  After almost two years, if I close my eyes, I can still hear his voice whispering in my ear, I can feel his soft lips on mine and I feel our two hearts beating together, then I open my eyes and it's all gone, except for the memory which will remain with me forever.  My throat fills with a lump I can't swallow away but no tears flow from my eyes today.  Not today, maybe tomorrow.

"God helps those....."

Do I believe in a Higher Power because I think he can make my life easier?  Do I pray and mediate only on the material things I want Him to provide for me?  When I go to my Higher Power in prayer, do I even ask for others?

I have always believed in God but I kept Him in a box.  I had a narrow view and understanding of God but thought I knew Him intimately.  Until the effects alcoholism brought me to my knees, I only had a slight understanding of the Him and His abilities.  I believed the miracles that God performed, but I worshiped the miracles and not the Deity who enabled them to be performed.  I began searching for the miracles and not the relationship with a Higher Power who cared for me.  I stopped to worship the "sign" but never attempted to continue on the journey. 

In times of trouble, I never rested in the arms of my Higher Power, I always helped Him do for me what He could not quite accomplish on His own.  After all, "God helps those who helps themselves."  When I could no longer help myself, when all of my strength in conquering a problem was exhausted, it was then that I "allowed" my Higher Power to take over without my interference.  It was only in utter defeat that I let go of my problem and "allowed" a Power greater than me to take over.  Did I do it because it was the right thing to do?  No.  I did it because it was the only avenue left for me to take.  Now I am more apt to believe that "God helps those who can't help themselves."

Today, I woke up very humbled.  I am once again unsure of my relationship with my Higher Power. Please don't get me wrong.  I am sure of the relationship my Higher Power has with me, I am unsure of mine with Him. I do not want to be the person who goes to prayer and meditation because I want "things."  I want to go to prayer and meditation to have a greater and more intimate relationship with a Power greater than myself.  I want to be able to say from deep within me, "Thy will be done."

Dirty Dishes

Yesterday in the Al-Anon book Courage to Change, I read a story about dirty dishes.  I'm sure I've read that story more than once but yesterday it was as if I was reading it for the first time.  The story was about a woman who was ready to throw out someone she loved over some dirty dishes.

Sounds crazy right?

Well guess what?  I can so relate.

I can't tell you the multitude of times when I have come home after being away for a few hours to find my house in total disarray.  I have come home to find piles of dishes in the sink and on the counter when only a few hours earlier the sink and counter were empty.  I have come home to find not one single horizontal area free of clutter.  When I come home and find my house in such a state I can almost hear my deceased mother saying, "A dirty house is a disgrace to the woman of the house."  The thoughts that race through my mind will inevitably set the stage for disaster.  My serenity is lost and the monsters of self-pity and martyrdom take control.

In days of old, I would have spent several hours stomping about trying to clean up the mess that the people who professed they loved me had made.  I would, of course, make sure that my huffing and puffing could be heard for miles, especially by those who live in the same house.  My day would be ruined and I would try to make the rest of the day equally as miserable for those I professed to love.  "I'll fix them, they will never do this to me again.  I'll show them exactly how they make me feel."  Yeah, that didn't work.

Through the gift of Al-Anon, I don't perform as I did in days of old quite as often.  I have come to understand that I don't have to be everything to everybody and I don't have to be any body's live-in maid if I don't want to be.  When I stomped about cleaning everything up I didn't give the people who made the mess the ability to rectify what they had done.  Why would they if I was going to do it anyway?   A change had to be made and it had to begin with me because lord knows my loved ones weren't taking the great hints I was beating them over the head with.

Today, when I walk into my home and see the mess created by the ones I love, I can take a deep breath, close my eyes and say the Serenity Prayer to help ease my discomfort.  I can go to a quiet place and take a few minutes to pray and meditate so I don't give my peace of mind away.  I can even sit on the couch and play with my dogs and leave the dishes and clutter out of my mind.  Can I do this all the time?  No.  What I can say is that when I do "go there" I don't "stay there" for as long as I used to which in my mind is progress.

So, you might be thinking to yourself that I can now sit in a house filled with clutter and dirty dishes.  On some days I can and I live through it.  The more important blessing is that my husband has found an activity that he enjoys doing.  He tells me that when he does dishes he can totally remove himself from all outside interference and stay in the present moment . . . .  washing each dish at a time. . . . drying each dish at a time....living each minute at a time.

Maybe someday I will learn that trying to do everything robs others of finding what they need.

Attitude of Gratitude

This morning I woke up rather blah feeling.  I brushed my teeth, ran a brush through my hair and looked at myself in the mirror.  (Insert silent scream here).  I shuffled into the kitchen to make myself my morning tea.  I sighed heavily as my thoughts drifted to my youngest daughter and the pain and hurt she is feeling right now.  "Why?  What did I do that was so terrible?  Why do I feel so unimportant?"  My daughter's words echoed in my mind over and over.  I wanted to scream out, "You didn't do anything wrong" but I remained silent in my opinions and just held her and told her I loved her and I thought she was very special.  I closed my eyes and asked my Higher Power to place his loving arms around her.    The microwave beeped informing me my tea was complete.  My fingers encircled the steaming hot cup warming my hands; the steam from the tea drifting up to warm my face.  My heart remained heavy.

I sat down on the couch in my living room.  My Dobie, sensing that I was feeling low, came over and placed his head in my lap.  I smiled down at him and patted the top of his head; tears welling up in my eyes.  I took a deep breath and started to pray and meditate.  Fifteen minutes later I stopped,  thinking, "this is futile."  I picked up my Al-Anon books and read the pages for today.  One of the pages was on gratitude.  Really?  Gratitude?  I began meditating on gratitude unknowingly; begrudgingly even.  "What do I have to be grateful for this morning?"  Nothing!  I have a daughter whose heart is breaking...... and then I stopped feeling sorry for myself.  The things I had to be grateful for came slowly at first and then they rushed in.  I looked down at my Dobie knowing he was one of the things I can be grateful for.  This morning, I offer you my alphabetical list of gratitude.

A is for Amy, B is for Bill, C is for Caring friends, D is for Dad, E is for Evening when I can rest my weary mind, F is for Felicia, G is Gratitude (that my Higher Power gave me this morning), H is for Helen, I is for Icing, J is for July (the month of my birth), K is for Kisses, L is for Laughter, M is for Mom, N is for good Neighbors, O is for Open Minds, P is for Prayer, Q is for Quiet time, R is for Rory, S is for Sara, T is for Troubled times that I can grow through, U is for Undying love that my Higher Power has for me, V is for Victory (knowing I don't have to fight the fight), W is for Wealth (and not the monetary kind), X is for Xander, and  Z is for a Zest for life that hasn't been in my all my life.

Tuning in the Channel

 Right after I brush my teeth, wash my face and make myself a cup of steaming tea, I begin my ritual of prayer and  meditation.  Before I begin my morning of prayer and meditation I have to fine tune the channel.  Tuning my prayer channel reminds me of years ago when I had a radio with a dial on it and I had to play with the dial to make sure the radio station was at it's best so I could listen to my favorite tunes clearly.  I would work the channel so precisely because listening to a crystal clear channel was important to me.  Now, listening to my Higher Power as clearly as I can is important to me so I have to fine tune the channel of my mind.  When I first start praying and meditating in the morning my mind may wonder to what I  have to do that day or what happened yesterday or what may happen tomorrow and I have to tune those bits of static out and fine tune my thinking back to the present and my prayer.  Some days tuning my channel may take more time than other days but it is always worth the little extra time spent to be able to hear a crystal clear Power.

Prayer and meditation was not an easy thing for me to grow accustom to.  I learned their valuable worth through Al-Anon.  In the past, my thoughts on meditation had a very strong visual attached.  I believed you could not meditate unless there was some very strong incense burning, you sat on the floor with your legs contorted into an impossible position, your arms were outstretched, you made a low humming sound and your eyes were closed.  Prayer was always something I knew about.  Prayer was me begging God to do what I wanted Him to do and Him saying "No, you've been way to bad for me to do that for you."  Having those ideas in my mind gave me permission not to pray or meditate...EVER.

Today, I know that prayer and meditation is just a sweet conversation between me and my Higher Power.  The prayer part is me asking to have my Higher Power's will done in my life and the meditation part is me learning to listen.