What if This Was a Prayer?

Weekly wisdom to level up your creative life in 3 minutes, for free.

A SHORT STORY

I once heard that the job of the artist is to fall in love with the world.

But how does one do that?

One of the things I’ve learned from befriending many theologians has boiled down to this quiet practice: “What if this was a prayer?”

Sitting with my friend, right now. Riding the subway. Taking care of a customer. All of it.

Not as performance. Not as ritual. But as a way of seeing.

Now, that doesn’t mean it’s easy.

In fact, I’ve always found the word prayer to be problematic and complicated. But sometimes, even asking the question is enough.

For instance, an Abba from the 3rd century was once asked, “What is the most difficult virtue to acquire?” He concluded by saying that prayer is the hardest of virtues—because prayer is warfare to the last breath.

It’s a place to see ourselves as we really are.

And maybe that’s also the work of loving the world as an artist:
To stay open.
To stay present.
To listen.

As I head into my dad’s memorial this weekend, I’m thinking a lot about these ideas as a way to honor those who have left us.

As I wade through the complexities of family drama and anxiousness, one way I hope to make it through:

What if this was a prayer?

What in your life, right now, might change if you approached it as a prayer?

A POEM

“Your Prayer” by David Whyte

only began
with words,
each one
you realize,
just
a hand
on the door
to silence,
even
in your
gathered
chanted strength
what you said
in the end
was only
a shoulder
against the grain
of wood
trying to keep
the entrance
open,
until that door
which
had been no door
at all
gave in
to necessary
grief,
which is really
only the full
understanding
of what
you were missing
all along,
which
is really
just that
vulnerability
you needed
to make
a proper
invitation,
which is really
just you
admitting
the full depth
of your love at last.
The heart-broken
heart
coming to
heart-felt rest
the opening
inside you
now filled to the
gleaming brim
and
casting
its generous beam,
the part of you
you thought
was foolish,
the wisest voice of all.

Grateful,

Michael