My prayer for the year ahead is to meet my edge with more grace. In times of chaos, challenge or conflict help me stand strong and walk towards my boundary, my edge.
Help me be curious and walk towards my uncomfortable feelings with love and an open heart.
In times of mistrust or division help me raise my head, my lungs and breathe in a stride towards that tension.
May I lean towards my limits with a new learned sense of familiarity. Let this become a place I know and a space of recognisable wisdom.
Let my body and spirit know my edge as much as I know my centre. And may the retraction inward be a soft walk back to myself with compassion in tow.
I pray I walk within my self with affirmation of safety. That I being to recognise this boundary as a recognisable place which is part of my whole. So my edge is a place I grow to know as much as my resting repose.
I pray today for new ways of walk this earthly reality with my feet firmly planted in each and every moment.
May my feet connect to the one place, one time, one love. May my feet anchor me sturdy and strong. May my feet feel the pulse of Mother Earth, the temperature of present awareness.
May my feet be open to pull in all the valleys, alleys and avenues of choices, considerations here present. May my feet be able to spread my weight evenly with equanimity as my teacher.
May my footsteps be met with desired movement. May forward action be with a tender greeting of all the elements playing a symphony of encouragement and guidance through All the paths and passages of life.
Memories of last years snowy visits to my Fathers bedside are arising. This time of year is a reminiscing of those dark nights in heavy white snowflakes and the determination to get to him no matter what.
The car got left at the roadside at the foot of a hill too slippy to climb. We had our faces dipped down and hoods tightly pulled in.
The ground was fresh and crisp and cars that normally litter the carpark where nowhere to be seen. Just clean inches of snowfall outside the hospital entrance.
I sat that night too worried to hold his hand with my freezing fingers. Instead I kept them wrapped around the rosary beads. Pattering through the Pater beads and stringing along my Hail full of Grace. The beads are still in my bag from last year and maybe it is time to give them a new purpose, with winter walks. Once upon a time I wouldn’t have dared to walk about with the prayers pacing aloud but now it feels more necessary. These prayers bring me to the awareness of the nature around me and to my Father. His love of the Robin tweeting, the leaves still orange and the pink skies a 4pm.
For me it also reminds me of the support and nurturing around me. Of the prayers offer to me in my hour of need by a circle of friendship. That night as I said the prayers I knew my friends, they call them rosebuds, where saying them also and thinking of me. Prayers hold us up, set us down and hear our grief even in our silence.
My prayers this year are allowing me to release these body shivers and somatic sparks of electricity as I remember Him. I still sit in circle with those who held me so near from so far across the globe. Our prayers transverse continents and encircle us when we need it the most.
Thank you Rosebuds. You are always in my heart and in my walks of prayers.