How to pray
Give a narrative to the burdens you carry.
Original publication link: How to pray
Start without a greeting. No salutation, no “Dear God,” no enlightened address to the universe itself, no terms of endearment or humbled adoration. Who are you to label the infinite? Infinite dust or infinite spirit, it doesn’t belong to you. You belong to it.
Talk to the air like you’re talking to your best friend, because maybe you are.
Talk out loud, letting the awkward words hang and drop, tumble out, stagger forth from your empty mouth. You are drunk on the sharp red wine of life. You are breathing out the perfume of love and brokenness.
Rest your head on the chair and pray in silence. Let your lips move with the shape of words you can’t bear to say out loud. Let each breath carry out a morsel of despair. Give a narrative to the burdens you carry. Fill your inner room with your own voice speaking each day’s impossible weight.
Keep at it until the whole thing simmers into a thick elixir, a single thrumming word, a heartbeat. Maybe it’s something like help help help help help. Maybe it’s a groan. Maybe it sounds like yes. Maybe it’s a high-pitched note that could mean joy or horror.
