Seven Step Prayer
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I have just finished re-reading, probably for the third time, “The Soul of a Pilgrim” by Christine Valters Paintner. In her book she refers to a seven-step prayer which is my new rhythm throughout the day.
Briefly the seven steps are
Listen
Called
Sit
Wait
Breathe
Release
Rest
Listen
Listen is my word for the year. As a musician, I always thought I was a pretty good listener. Ah, but then I discovered that I tend to stop at the vibrations of the sound.
I hear the melody of the lead violins, the rhythmic background of percussion, and the harmony of the other background instruments. But what am I missing?
How does this listening translate to listening to someone in pain? Or listening to someone in celebration? Or my favorite…listening to the silence?
There is a significant difference, for this inner listening does not depend on sound waves hitting my ear drums.
It depends on my heart opening to the nuances between the notes, or between spoken words in a conversation, or to the stillness of the early morning.
It is this latter kind of listening I want to develop this year.
Just when I feel like I understand what it is I am after, I bungle it all up with my thoughts.
That’s when I know I am listening with my brain.
My goal is to practice listening in silence…to silence.
It will take a lot of practice to let go of my thinking. Especially my great thoughts about how to solve all the world’s problems.
Called
Why do I care about this deep listening? It is because I am called to listen.
Not just to come to the supper table, but to hear the cry of the hungry.
Not only to hear the local news but to listen to the angst of the newscasters who make a living trying to get people to listen. They use all kinds of advertising to get people to hear their message.
I am called not only to hear the music of the symphony, and of the early morning larks outside my window, I am called to hear the joy of the butterfly emerging from a cocoon, or the stretch of a mushroom that triples its size through the dark of the night.
And I am called to hear the pain of the driver who cuts me off, the loneliness of the obstreperous person ahead of me in line, or the shame of the waitress who seems outwardly so competent at balancing plates and orders.
I am called to listen.
SIT
I find the best way to practice this kind of listening is to sit.
Nothing more.
Just sit.
As soon as I propose to sit without distraction, my mind is faithful to fill me with a to-do list, or it begins to create a summary of something I plan to write, or maybe I go deep enough to feel pain or sorrow, and immediately I must change my thoughts lest they ruin my whole day.
And so I continue to sit.
The best way I have found to slow these thoughts down to a dull roar is to welcome them.
Yes. That’s right. I don’t insist on sending them on their way. If these distracting thoughts know they are welcome any time of the day or night, they stop banging on my door to be heard.
Sometimes I keep a small notepad and write down a distracting thought and the next time it appears I can smile and assure my brain that it will not be forgotten.
And then I return to sit.
Only sit.
Wait
Have you ever found that waiting for something can stir up a lot of inner fretting.
“Is he ever going to get home? Is he all right?”
“ My appointment was at 3:00 and she is taking forever. I don’t have time to wait!”
“ But I want some chips now! I don’t want to wait until supper.”
Waiting is not as easy as it looks. It takes practice. And to wait without filling the space with something…anything…is next to impossible.
For me that would be video games on my phone. I must take baby steps with waiting, but it is a practice I want to develop.
Breathe
When we get busy, distracted or upset in any situation the first thing to go awry is our breathing. It’s easy to hold your breath without being aware of it when facing a car heading towards you out of control.
Or perhaps you begin to hyperventilate when you get angry.
To become mindful of breathing is the first step to any of the above practices.
One of the best ways to begin is to take a long slow inhale. Count to four, feel the pause and then exhale to a count of six.
Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom. A profound statement written by Viktor Frankl in “Man’s Search for Meaning.”
Sometimes just being aware of that pause brings mystical inner strength and peace when it is needed the most.
Release
Another practice that ties in well with all of the previous ones is to release, to let go of whatever burdens, questions or sorrows you may be holding and allow some holy space in your heart instead.
I release my poor attitudes, judgments, and things I cling to that don’t really matter.
Easier said than done.
I have found a number of ways to practice release. An intentional exhale is one method, but I tend to want to throw something when I am feeling stressed.
I can play fetch with my dog and focus on letting go every time I throw the ball.
I have also written what I want to release on paper and put it in the woodstove, letting the flames consume what I can’t hold.
It is helpful to get physically involved with releasing, whether that is a feeling, a regret, or a nagging thought you can’t seem to get rid of.
Rest
The final line of Paintner’s list-prayer is to rest. As a spiritual practice, I put rest in a slightly different category than taking a nap, although I do often take “flat time.” But it is not only my body that needs rest.
It is my whole being.
My heart may have been carrying so much sorrow that I can feel it quiver with compassion fatigue.
My mind may have been working on computer tech difficulties, all with no answers, or my spirit may feel as cold as icicles on bare trees in winter.
Instead of plugging onward with stubborn determination, I need to savor the restorative powers of rest. Resting is more than stopping an activity. It is an invitation to listen to the call, to sit and take several intentional breaths, release, and wait for the mystery of new strength.
Each time I read The Soul of a Pilgrim I am encouraged again to use these steps in my everyday living. And each time I do, they speak differently to me.
May these seven simple steps bring you what you most need today.
