What station are you tuned to?

“Prayer is actually setting out a tuning fork. All you can really do in the spiritual life is get tuned to receive the always-present message. Once you are tuned, you will receive, and it has nothing to do with worthiness or the group you belong to, but only inner resonance and a capacity for mutuality. The Sender is absolutely and always present and broadcasting; the only change is with the receiver station.” -- Richard Rohr

In my Celtic spirituality class this week, our assignment was to write a prayer in the way of the Celtic Christians and compose it out of the stuff of our own life. I knew the assignment was coming up, I didn’t feel particularly anxious about it, but when the time came to actually write, I froze. All I could think of were the examples we had been reading over the last two weeks. Vast experiences of the Trinitarian God in rhyme and rhythm; poetic use of meter and repetition. My mind went blank. My tuning fork shut down and my head filled with the pressure of performance.

Taking a few deep breaths (one of my favorite forms of self-care), I hit my reset button and began to simply journal. I drew myself back into the present – into the “stuff of my life” and Voila! there was the Sender – broadcasting loud and clear.

While the end result still feels a little clunky to me – not much rhyme or meter – I realize it is indeed a prayer of my own with hints of the Celtic Christians. It is also a wonderful reminder (as my days continue to rise and swell and dip and sink like the vast ocean) that the present moment is all I really have. If I can find myself there, I have hope to ride the crest of the wave and emerge outside the trough. Sensing the resonance and knowing there is One who rides the waves with me, lets me know I am tuned to a sustainable frequency.

Arising Presence

Breaking through the dreams of night,
slowly I awaken.
Rain falls softly on the lawn and
in my heart I hear the call,
Listen. Listen. Listen.

I stretch and feel my sinewy limbs
gently come alive.
Golden softness brushes my palm,
The breath of God caresses my face.
Listen. Listen. Listen.

Spirit prompts and says, Arise.
Come greet the day that lies before.
Listen. Listen. Listen.

Holy friend, you walk beside.
My feet caressed in lamb’s soft wool,
we step 'cross solid ground of oak.
I feel your touch and once again hear,
Listen. Listen. Listen.

Father God, Creator Soul you meet me
through breath & touch & sound.
Rain falling. Breath purring.
Wool caressing. Ground holding.
Speaking to the dreams of day,
Listen. Listen. Listen.

© Kayce S. Hughlett 2010