Praying from Presence Part II

This is Part II of a two-part series. To read Part I click here
When we are suffering and turn to prayer, no matter what the apparent reasons for our pain, the basic cause is always the same: we feel separate and alone.  Our reaching out is a way of relieving ourselves of this pain of isolation.  Yet the bodhisattva's aspiration for awakening compassion radically deepens the meaning of prayer by guiding us to also turn inward.  We discover the full purity and power of prayer by listening deeply to the suffering that gives rise to it. Like a great tree, such prayer sinks its roots into the dark depths in order to reach up fully to the light. This is what I call praying from presence, or mindful prayer: We open wakefully to our suffering and allow ourselves to reach out in our longing for connection.  Irish poet and priest John O’Donohue writes: "Prayer is the voice of longing; it reaches outwards and inwards to unearth our ancient belonging." The more fully we touch our pain and longing, the more fully we are released into boundless, compassionate presence.
Photo Credit: Shell Fischer
Praying from presence awakens us from the imprisoning story of a suffering self.  Resisting pain only serves to solidify the notion that "I" am suffering.  When we perceive pain simply as pain, rather than "my pain," and hold it tenderly; we are no longer the beleaguered, suffering self.  The fear, shame, grief and longing no longer feel like a mistake or an oppressive burden.  We can begin to see their universal nature: this is not my grief, it is not my fear, it is not my longing.  It is part of the human experience and being willing to hold it tenderly is the doorway to compassion.
A beautiful Sufi teaching shows us how our pain is not personal, it is an intrinsic part of being alive:
Overcome any bitterness that may have come 
because you were not up to the magnitude of the pain 
that was entrusted to you. Like the Mother of the World,
 who carries the pain of the world in her heart, each one of us is part of her heart,
 and therefore endowed
 with a certain measure of cosmic pain.   
Photo Credit: Shell Fischer
Our sadness, fear and longing are universal expressions of suffering that are “entrusted to us,” and they can be prayerfully dedicated to the awakening and freedom of our hearts:  “Please…may this suffering awaken compassion. May this suffering awaken compassion.”  As we meet our pain with kindness instead of bitterness or resistance, our prayer is answered.  Our hearts become an edgeless sea of loving awareness with room not only for our own hurts and fears, but also for the pain of others.  Like the Mother of the World, we become the compassionate presence that can hold, with tenderness, the rising and passing waves of suffering.

For more information visit: www.tarabrach.com

Popular posts from this blog

The Wisdom of "It's Not My Fault": Finding Freedom When We are Caught in Self-Blame

Image
I sometimes think that the most basic truths are the ones that we most regularly forget, and one of them is: If we are turned on ourselves, we cannot love this life. The turning on ourselves contracts us. In those moments, we are disconnected from our inner life and from each other. We move through the day with an undercurrent of I’m not okay, but are unaware of how much it’s affecting our capacity to relax and enjoy our moments. The Second Arrow of Self-Blame In Buddhist teachings, the Buddha described two arrows. The first arrow is the natural experience that arises in this human animal that we are, for example: fear, aggression, greed, craving. The second arrow is self-aversion for the fact of the first arrow. We have the experience of being nasty, selfish or greedy, and we don’t like ourselves for that. That’s the second arrow. The Buddha says: “The first arrow hurts, why do we shoot the second arrow into us, ourselves?” And yet we do. He goes on to say: “In life, we cannot
Read more

De-Conditioning the Hungry Ghosts: Bringing Mindfulness and Self-Compassion to Craving and Addiction

Image
In Buddhist cosmology, one of the psychic domains that is described is the Realm of the Hungry Ghosts. The hungry ghost figures are depicted with scrawny little necks and huge bellies — riddled with powerful desires they can never really satisfy. Nearly everyone I know struggles with their own version of the hungry ghost syndrome. In a very human way, desires are natural and wholesome. They are necessary for us to survive and flourish. The challenge is that, to the degree that our basic needs for safety, bonding, and a healthy sense of our value are unmet, desire contracts and we become fixated on substitutes. Whether it’s alcohol or drugs, or perfectionism, or approval, it catches and confines us. It creates tremendous pain and stops us from living from a deeper sense of presence and love. William C. Moyers, well known for his work in the field of addiction and for his own poignant struggle with the disease, spoke at an MIT conference several years ago. He said: "I have a
Read more

Accepting Absolutely Everything

Image
“The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change.”  — Carl Rogers  Mohini was a regal white tiger who lived for many years at the Washington D.C. National Zoo. For most of those years her home was in the old lion house—a typical twelve-by-twelve-foot cage with iron bars and a cement floor. Mohini spent her days pacing restlessly back and forth in her cramped quarters. Eventually, biologists and staff worked together to create a natural habitat for her. Covering several acres, it had hills, trees, a pond and a variety of vegetation. With excitement and anticipation they released Mohini into her new and expansive environment. But it was too late. The tiger immediately sought refuge in a corner of the compound, where she lived for the remainder of her life. Mohini paced and paced in that corner until an area twelve by twelve feet was worn bare of grass. Perhaps the biggest tragedy in our lives is that freedom is possible, yet we can pass our year
Read more