Praying like an open field

Prayer as an open, spacious, receptive quality of mind and heart. Being like an open Iowa field. (photo: Deer path in Iowa Field along Standing Rock road during morning prayer run, 2025 by cqe)

That was the longest January ever. Normally I'm a lover of winter. It's contemplative wisdom too, especially concerning the nurturance of solitude (different from loneliness), slowing down, and rest. Breathing into restlessness until, borrowing words from the Tao Te Ching, one's mud settles and water clears. Yes, I want to keep learning--even if in ever fleeting moments--how to become like clear water. Or as good--how to be as patient, receptive, and trusting as a snow covered still and open field. The way it hands itself over in a gesture of surrender. Allowing. Allowing in winter seasons of life a Higher Power, Life Force, God Source or whatever one calls the ultimately namable, untamable Mystery. Yes, I want to be like an open Iowa field.  

Yet tightness in the lower back and shoulders is a big give away that one has been bracing. Or taking on the weight of the world (Sound familiar?).

 For me that includes putting one parent back on Hospice last week while another parent, a couple thousand miles way 3 days later, underwent a heart procedure without success.

Perhaps its the below zero weather streak making even this winter-hearty runner into a coward hesitant to get back out there now that the weather app says "feels like 15".

Then there's everything happening in our national and international life.

All the fright, fight, flight, and freeze surrounding that. Which makes for a lot bracing, slogging through, and remembering to breathe. Standing in the freezing cold on the corner of hwy 1 & 1st street in clerical collar and rainbow stole while holding a pro-love, democracy, and hope sign, alongside other Iowans, helps. It warms and strengthens courage. So are savoring last Sunday's scriptures on how, when asked what the Lord requires, the answer given is to seek justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God. (Micah 6:8). Then the Beatitudes on blessed are the poor in spirit, and those who mourn.

My mind also leaning into, as the late Fr. Henri Nouwen put it, how the Good News is not that God came to take away our suffering,

but that God wanted to be part of it. Somehow that grants solace and courage. At least for me.

Lent begins soon (Feb 18). No heroics or guilt are required. Just a willingness to go into, and as, the open wilderness the way the ancient Israelites did. The way Jesus, accompanied by the ministry of angels, did. Learning to expose, name for oneself quietly or aloud--without guilt--and loosen ego fear, wants, and clinging.

Learning to be receptive, unclenched, open as the wilderness itself.  

I like the gentler understanding of Lent a Scottish bee keeper, monastic wisdom lover, rosary prayer bead maker named Fiach offers concerning Lent. How it's a season of creating space for God to speak, and allowing God to reorder us in love.

That's it.

"Not 'prove your devotion.'Not 'beat your body into submission.'

Not 'become spiritually impressive.'

Just: make space.Just: return."

St. Benedict, in all his foundational monastic wisdom named how "always we begin again." I think so. With each letting go breath as we loosen. Soften. Open.

 Maybe 5 minutes of practices going into the inner shrine of the heart and allowing a spacious vastness like field and sky? Allowing this as a state of mind and heart. A love and beauty in that place of intimacy between God and the soul. To breathe in that intimacy and openness.

Mind likes to wander?

Good on you for noticing.

With loving kindness and zero self-reproach, always begining again.

 Applying more openness to unconditional love, tenderness, and receptivity.

Allowing God to reorder us in love.

Then throughout the day returning to that spacious inner space.

Resting in, with, and as The Vastness.

Practicing The Presence,

intimacy,

deep listening.

With deep bow and love,

Cathy Q-E