This morning, getting ready to teach my Tuesday online movement medicine class, I opened my journal to jot down notes of what the group members had to say and I found something I wrote last week. It was what I needed to re read this morning.
It was this:
I did not know that I start each day with a prayer
Until darkness lay beside me
And the white blossoms between fronds of new green on the Guanacaste called me home and my heart cried out in relief
The weight of the world and the tedious laundering of village gossip ensucio
I can not!
The tree roots and the bird who pecks at my window and the green are the only answers.
Siguapate. Muicle. Teponsantle. Sauco. Apasote.
The names in another language (Nahuatl) - are names of plants I want to learn about. The first two I can identify in my garden and know a little of. The last 3 are names of medicinal plants I wrote down and no longer remember what or which they are (I will find out). The words weren’t part of the prayer-poem-writing. But they are there in my notebook under the other words. Good reminders of things that lighten my mind and lead my forwards in goodness just like the guanacaste blossoms.
There is also this excerpt from the poem, ‘The Summer Day’, by Mary Oliver ….
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life? -Mary Oliver
Here’s my definition (today) of a prayer:
A prayer = a moment of gratitude, of contemplation, of beauty, of connection
This is a seastar… a strange prickly but totally friendly nicaraguan delight you can find in tide pools. It may look a little strange and it is so cool.
Wishing you a prayerful day
Lucy