When I was young, my attempts at prayer were largely mental monologues, where I tried to fill all headspace with words which tried to ask for the right things.
At some point, putting a pause on what I previously understood as prayer, I journaled my concerns, in a stream of prose.
I appear to have hit a point where I cannot write, and I'm miles from being able to purposefully add words to any kind of spiritual contemplation.
That said, I stink at what I THINK meditation is supposed to look like. My best recourse is walking. Alone. Just walking. This, at times, allows the thing that meditation is meant to do, to happen.
When I was young, my attempts at prayer were largely mental monologues, where I tried to fill all headspace with words which tried to ask for the right things.
At some point, putting a pause on what I previously understood as prayer, I journaled my concerns, in a stream of prose.
I appear to have hit a point where I cannot write, and I'm miles from being able to purposefully add words to any kind of spiritual contemplation.
That said, I stink at what I THINK meditation is supposed to look like. My best recourse is walking. Alone. Just walking. This, at times, allows the thing that meditation is meant to do, to happen.
These are a wonderful addition to my daily reading, Dale. Thank you.
Dale, I'm so glad I saw this on FB and listened. Meditation and blackberries, a perfect pair. Margaret