I remember the day that changed, and I realized that prayer, in the way I had understood and used it, no longer was a part of my life. I felt angry and hurt at that discovery. Now what? I thought. That emotional response lasted for about three months.
I don’t pray anymore. I can’t imagine how I could. What, exactly, would I be praying to that is separate?
And yet prayer is alive–in each breath, each action, each thought. It is, as the old Sufi saying goes, closer than my jugular vein. It turns out that nothing at all was lost, simply perceived differently.
© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2013