Gazing as Prayer without Words

Just look at the serene blues and greens in this watercolor --

and the tranquil reflections in the water are amazing!

It's the lake I wrote about a couple of posts back.

I'm so grateful to Mike Thomas for permission to use

Boathouse at Smith Lake, Washington Park, Denver.

It really gives a wonderful impression of the the park.

I love how our thoughts and feelings can be subtly

affected by contemplating a setting like this. Last Friday

as I gazed at the currents flowing across the lake,

I slowly rested into hope; that was my prayer.

Words were unnecessary.

When talking isn't helpful and words only get in the way,

gazing at an image can help shift our thoughts -- and in turn

shift our physical and emotional reactions.

For example, have you ever found that talking about a problem

doesn't bring relief, but instead causes a tense visceral reaction?

Things like an anxious tightness in the back, churning knots

in the stomach, or tense clinching around the shoulders.

What I tend to notice first is how my voice rises a level or

two ... or three ... and how my pattern of speech often begins

to gallop into breakneck speed.

By gazing at a calm scene or a soothing watercolor like this,

our mindful attentiveness can become prayer.

When our lives are disrupted and our souls disturbed,

when words are insufficient even in prayer, we can

allow our gaze to settle into prayer without words.

Nicknames

Seeing old friends is great.

You know what else is great?
To be able to respond
when asked "How are you?" with
"I'm cancer free -- and
I'm depression free."

I call them
the "Big C"

and the "Dirty D"

There's power in a name.
Liberating power as well as oppressive power.
There's calm centering power,
and there's also the
whimsical redeeming power of nicknames.

What are some of your favorite nicknames
for struggles or Pains-in-the-Neck?
Favorite practical jokes?
Dreaded foods, days, or tasks?
Alter-egos or an Inner Child?

Tranquil Waters, Gentle Waves

Every Friday morning I meet a group of friends

at one of the parks in the Denver area.

Today we gathered near the Vintage Boathouse at Wash Park.

We spread my Great-Great-Aunt-Sissy's quilt with its faded pink flowers

beneath huge lakeside shade trees and lounged with

our coffee, tea, and morning snacks.

The peaceful water seemed to soothe everything around us.

Even the white geese with trailing toddlers

were more tranquil than usual.

I gazed out over the gently drifting current

and thought of friends whose days and realistic expectations

are anything but calm, serene, or tranquil.

Hundreds of applications and dozens of interviews,

sleepless nights and stressful days,

anxious weeks extending into months.

How long? How long, O Lord? echoes the 13th Psalm.

How long must sorrow remain? How long?

There are no words sufficient for my hopes.

But there are gentle waves drifting by.

Something New to Try!

What might it be like

to lighten our souls, brighten our lives,

and find joyous moments throughout our days?

(How often it is that we think of our life journey

as something 'serious' -- you know,

when even the word 'serious' is spoken

slowly, sedately, and in our deepest voice;

something weighty and pendantic!)

With my new blog,

I hope to share with you

a journey filled with

whimsical creative practices

for joyous moments in a thoughful life.