Watch and Pray: The Invitation of a Lifetime

. . watch and pray. . . .
Jesus, from Matthew 26:41
 

Soul Friends,

Make no mistake about it, it is really hard to watch and pray. Most of us will spend a lifetime accepting and integrating this three-word invitation.

It is hard to watch the suffering unfold around us. It is hard to read or hear about (not to mention live, for some of us) the challenges faced by those who work faithfully in our healthcare system, those who are stuck now in abusive homes, those whose livlihoods have bottomed out without secure safety nets, those who drop off loved ones at the hospital fearing they will not see them again and will be left without the warmth of physical company in their grief.

It is hard to stay with our own suffering. It is hard to stay with the anxiety tightening in our own chests, our own clenched fists. It is hard to really bear witness to the scurrying chaos of our racing thoughts. It is hard to accept the ways in which we have already failed one another, and are likely to again.

We just want all the flashing red that is part of our new reality to miraculously turn into an exit sign. There is something in every one of us—as there was in Jesus—that just wants a way out. This is natural. And it is no cause for shame. Welcome, welcome, welcome to our wanting a way out. Now.

Welcome, welcome, welcome the impulse to just stay in bed. Welcome the impulse to go bed at 8pm. Welcome the impulse to lose ourselves in one more Netflix episode, another project, another mixed drink, one more piece of chocolate, our own drama, our incessant information gathering, our denial of the seriousness of this moment or the numbness or poignancy of our own suffering.

Welcome, welcome, welcome all of this, and notice where this impulse resides in your body; every bit of it is surfacing, showing us the precise zipcode in our body where there is more to be healed, more to be loved.

It is so hard to stay awake. But when we are awake, when we are no longer in denial of what is present, when we can simply watch, instead of rushing out to amputate, cover up, or fix what is present, then we can pray. Then we can allow whatever is present to usher us into connection. With ourselves. With one another. With God.

Soul friend, to be in connection with one is to be in connection with all. When you touch into your own suffering, you are touching into God's suffering. When you refuse to avert your gaze from the suffering of another, you are keeping your eyes on Jesus. This is conscious connection; this is prayer.

Here is a practice for you. The next time you are awakened to your suffering, don't go back to sleep. Instead, call to mind and heart others who are experiencing this same or similar suffering. Feeling helpless? Call to mind others who are experiencing this same thing. Feeling frustrated? Call to mind those who feel that same hardness growing. Use this as an opportunity to connect your heart to theirs, your pain body to theirs. Then hold yourself, and them—now present within your own heart—in God's compassionate gaze. Imagine the Beloved's compassionate gaze in whatever way makes sense to you. Perhaps you will see the eyes of Jesus, or of your grandmother. Perhaps this gaze will manifest as the warmth of a ray of sunshine, or the cool luminescence of a grand moon. Perhaps the gaze will surround you as a sweet scent or bath of warm water. Just go with what comes. And then notice how this feels in your body.

Now you are learning, again, how to watch and pray.