Summer Greetings, dear Friends! It is the season of vacation trips, bright summer colors, gardens in full growth preparing for a bountiful harvest, blue skies, sunshine, swimming and picnicking. In short, a busy, outward-oriented time of year. Where is there time for prayer in all this activity? We tend to think of prayer as a quiet, inward-looking pursuit, and it feels more natural to focus on it during deep winter months when nature herself draws inward into silence. But there are many ways to pray. As we eagerly look for new flowers in bloom, as we are stilled for a moment before a blazing sunset over the ocean, as we are humbled by the miracles of growth all around us . . . are these not prayers of gratitude? And when we watch a summer storm approaching over distant mountains, clouds gathering, darkening, moving faster and faster, wind picking up and then the rain coming down in sheets; and it moves closer and lightening zigzags across the sky everywhere, and we are filled with awe before the sheer power unleashed; and then it moves away, and deep silence remains in its aftermath, and for a moment we, too, are silent before the power and majesty of nature . . . is this not worshipful prayer? Let us be attentive to these moments of spontaneous prayer as well as our times of inward, more intentional prayer in silence.
To live a surrendered life is to be present moment to moment with our experience, to accept our experience without judging it. Or if we judge it, to forgive ourselves for defending, for pushing away. To be with our experience does not mean that we do not space out, detach, disappear emotionally. It means that we become increasingly aware of when we dissociate and gently bring ourselves back. This "bringing ourselves back" is the essence of meditation. To meditate, it is not necessary to stop thinking. But it is necessary to become aware of the thoughts as they happen, to see how they take us out of the silence. To see how they prevent us from being wholly present.