This morning when my friend asked for prayers in dealing with negativity I recognized my own need immediately. I offer a practice and a prayer.
Practice To Release Negative Energy
Once settled in a comfortable position (lying on my back works well for me), ground yourself with breathing.
When focused, begin the ritual of releasing negative energy embedded in your aura, your brain, anywhere in your energy field where it tends to get stuck. Imagine using your hands to unravel and pull out the pieces of negative energy, sending each one down your spine, and into the ground where it can be reconstituted… recycled for the good, if you will. Accompany the release with the words, “Releasing this unwanted negative energy….sending it down to the earth.”
When finished, take the time you need to let welcome, positive energy to settle in. Follow the ritual with a physical cleansing with water, sage, or incense.
A Prayer For These
Photo Credit: Cathedral of light | vivid sydney 2016
I looked at my cat this morning and exclaimed, “Wheel of Fortune!” capturing as much of the exuberance of “Rain Man” Ray as I could muster. Sherlock yawned in reply.
Tarot card “Wheel of Fortune,” had been my meditation. I learned again that change is inevitable and try as we may, we can’t control everything. We should just work on staying centered as we experience the spin, the fortune and the misfortune.
How could I not be inspired by the long running American game show, “Wheel of Fortune?”
Wheel of Fortune!
With a flick of the wrist
The Wheel offers up both
Fortune and misfortune.
Around and around she goes
And where she stops, nobody knows.
The trick is to relinquish control,
Relax into the spin
Learn from the landing point.
We can always call for a vowel
From the great white dove
Who wafts across the stage
Of our lives handing out hints
And glints of grace
For puzzle solving.
© Rita H Kowats 8-3-2020
Someday, after mastering the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God the energies of love, and then, for a second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire.
Pierre Teilhard de Chardin
Edvard Munch, The Scream (1910), from the collection of the Munch Museum, Oslo. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
Someone living on my floor walks very heavily on the way down the hall to the recycle room across from my apartment. The footsteps are jarring because there is nothing to fear outside my door, yet I am unnerved by them. I even feel irritated every time I hear them. They put me on edge, as though pending danger waits on the other side. I sit on my chair and wait for the other shoe to drop. The fear surprises me because I am no longer a fearful person. It seems so silly, but…
Unconsciously I am hearing increased gunshots ringing out in many cities all over America. And the footfall keeps dropping. I hear reports of almost 4 million cases of covid. And the footfall keeps dropping. I see federal agents beat a silent, still protestor. And the footfall keeps dropping.
I am on the alert now, unaware before that I flinched with every heavy step I heard outside my door. Flinching fear is a safeguard for which I am grateful. But I don’t want it to wield power over me, influencing my life in unexpected and unconscious ways; so I bring it here into the light.
Spiritual Practice For Releasing Fear
Breathing in, I rest in my courage.
Breathing out, I release fear.
Breathing in, I rest in my power.
Breathing out, I release fear.
Let us pray
May we be content with our own best selves.
May we manage our discontent peacefully.
Amen. May it be so.
I have lived in the realm of academia and spirituality all my life. It is lofty living and I have loved it, but in my retirement years it is time to come down from the loft more often if I want to learn the lessons which down-to-earth life has to offer me. I do want to learn.
Yesterday was a bright, warm Puget Sound day and I had fixated on cooling off with an ice-cream drumstick. Pulled by the vision of hot St. Louis summer afternoons when my Hungarian grandmother gave me a dime to get a pop sickle at the corner convenience store, I headed to the nearby 7-11. Arriving at the door simultaneously was a curly red-haired giant of a youth who bounced in with me. We both made a beeline to the ice-cream freezer and dissolved in giggles at the synchronicity of our meeting. He gurgled with glee, “And they’re on sale two for $4.00! I bought my drumstick and he exclaimed in disbelief, “Only one? But they’re two for $4.00!” “I know,” I replied, “But I shouldn’t eat one, let alone two.” I continued on my way, grinning and wishing I had thought to buy two bars and give him one for a dollar. The simple gift of joy exuding from this young man pulled me into that ordinary space of unadulterated, lavish hospitality.
When I settled into life at my 55+ community, life events drained me of the energy to pay attention to the tasty slivers of ordinary life served up on a daily basis. Three years later I try to relish each morsel that presents itself. This morning I was greeted in the coffee-room by Marge and Louise. They both still work part-time. Marge and her sons catered our Christmas brunch last year. She shares treats baked by her aging hands and brought home to us on the bus. Out at the entrance to the Blakely at 7:30 a.m. I sit with my coffee waiting for the parade of smokers and dog owners to begin. First the smokers burst through the door. They have created an enviable tight-knit community held together by need and exposure to the elements of heat and cold and driving rain. Here come Victor and Jack. It was such fun sharing the excitement of the Superbowl with them in our communal theatre a few months ago. Often at 6:00 a.m. from my sixth floor window, I see Jack at the smokers’ bench sweeping around it. Now come the dogs walking their owners. Gordon’s prissy little Maltese urges him forward, but stops long enough to visit with a Shih Tzu tangled around its mom’s leg by its leash. Joan comes by at walk’s end with her neighbor’s Dachshund/terrier mix. She walks him because her neighbor is no longer able, but also because her own little companion has died.
The parade of life has stopped for now. I honor the different paths it takes in my neighbors. I am learning from the example of my Mennonite friends to wear plain clothes in my heart so I can see the plain truth of others and rejoice in it. Lest you think that I have this down, I report that a daycare contingent of toddlers has just arrived with their caretakers in tow. The toddlers are fine. The caregivers are loudly interfering with every other move the children make and in between complain about the parenting habits of others. This sliver of life fails to draw me in. Good-bye blissful beach.