I’ve been praying for as long as I can remember.
I can’t remember the first prayer I prayed. Maybe it was “hello” in the form of a cry when I first entered the universe from my mom’s womb. Maybe it was when I was 6 and I had a crush on a boy in my class and I asked God to help him like me too.
We’ve been praying for as long as I can remember. My parents always prayed over our food in gratitude before eating. I don’t think there exists a single crumb in my life that has been eaten without a prayer. Truly.
I was taught to pray before going to bed — thanking God for all that I experienced in the fullness of the day before while asking for protection and guidance as I moved forward to the next one.
My grandpa would pray over plants before rubbing their oils on my cousins’ ankles when they fell off of their bikes, asking for healing. My dad would pray in gratitude whenever he got a new job. He would pray in gratitude for another day when the sun rose. My mom would pray to the Earth as she walked in the desert picking up litter out of the kindness of her heart.
I was raised in prayer. Prayer, to me, has always felt like a natural conversation. It was (and still is) my favorite form of communication. It’s my way of speaking to something higher than myself that I can feel deeply connected to through my heart and essence.
It sort of feels like journaling, but with my mind. I just “think” everything that’s on my mind and send those thoughts to some messenger in the sky. Like a cosmic vent. I always ask for what I need as well as what I want!
Once, I lost my favorite messenger bag. It was a black cross-body bag way too big for me at the time. I must have been seven or eight years old and I felt like a newsboy making deliveries when I wore it! Well, a sparkly newsboy of sorts, as it had a purple, white, and silver rhinestone butterfly across its front diagonal.
At the time, my parents were going through financial stress and we were trying to sell our home. I remember my sister and I playing with our barbies in our room as I was thinking about where oh where my black bag with the butterfly could be! (oh, the agony!) As this thought tortured me, my parents came in and told us that we would be selling our home. My sister and I didn’t understand what that really meant at the time. Our immediate reaction was, “Can we bring the barbies to the new home?” thinking of where we’d live next.
So, we prayed. Mom and dad came in to deliver the news because they felt it was important for us to pray for our future together as a family. Before they prayed, they asked my sister & I if there was anything specific we’d like for them to include in the prayer. I, not knowing the seriousness of the situation, asked if they could ask God to help me find my black messenger bag with the butterfly on it. “Of course,” my dad said before beginning the prayer.
Somehow slightly conscious of the situation and the seemingly ridiculous ask of a higher power to find my favorite bag instead of, I don’t know, healthcare for the unemployed or something like that, I asked my dad, “Is it okay for me to ask for this right now?”
My dad took the moment to explain to my sister and I that we could ask God for anything. He explained to us that God doesn’t judge, so we were even allowed to pray about things we might feel uncomfortable talking about. We could even ask for new shoes if that was on our mind. He explained that God is Love, so there is nothing to fear or even think twice about when we pray. He emphasized that prayer was a personal experience and because of this, we were allowed to pray for whatever we want however we want.
Then he proceeded to pray for our future. Aaaand for my black bag to show up.
Within minutes and without searching for it, my black bag popped out of a random corner of my room. I was so excited and ran to my parents to show them!
“Mommy!! Daddy!! Look how God has answered our prayer!!!!”
Smiles of surprises brightened their faces. I felt like a young character in a bible story – an example of the miracles that exist in asking for what you need. I look back on this moment when I think about the power of prayer now and I realize that my bag showing up was not just a happy moment for me - it was also a sign from God to my parents that the entirety of our prayer was heard and we would be taken care of.
Prayers have evolved to a way of being for me. Everything I do, everything I consume, everything I interact with, I pray for. I’m always praying. I find prayers in my breath. In my sleep. In my thoughts. In the ways I hug. In the looks I exchange with people I love as well as people I don’t know.
In the medicinal plant ceremonies I serve, I sing songs of prayer. These songs represent gratitude to Mother Earth for our medicine, sacred lands for holding & protecting us, asks for healing (not just for me and the patients of the ceremony, but also for the entire world), and requests for guidance through l=Light, as Light helps us see clearly when things feel dark.
I’ve begun to learn the technology of prayer quite specifically. I know how to encode a prayer into a plant now and I’ve seen first hand what a difference that makes. A prayer into a plant creates a potent relationship between a human and a spirit that is the magic needed for healing. Medicine songs are prayers, and I began to learn the songs of my lineage in our Indigenous language Mazatec stemming from Nahuatl (the language of the Aztec).
About a year ago, I stopped learning these songs because the Mazatec healer that was teaching me these songs abused me.
I questioned prayer as I prayed for my safety.
I questioned the Universe, God, my connection to the plants, and any connection I had to any form of spirituality. I couldn’t believe what had happened to me was done under the name of God.
But still, I prayed.
And as I began to trust the Universe, God, and the plants again, I prayed to them asking them to return me to the essence of the medicine songs. I told them how hurt I was and I realized that the person who hurt me did not do so in the name of God. For God is Love and this person acted from Fear and Hate.
I prayed to return to the songs. I prayed that the songs, and the truths of the medicine songs, found their way back to me.
As I prayed, I searched for the songs in my meditations and dreams. I thought the songs would find a way to enter my psyche and field of consciousness somehow. I could not find them for months, but I continued to pray for them trusting that someone, somewhere, would hear me and answer this prayer coming deep from within my longing heart.
Whenever I’m struggling, my prayers become deeper. They become rooted in more gratitude, because I understand how gratitude for what I already have contains the potency to birth abundance for what I need.
And I’m always surprised by how my prayers are answered. I know that God has answers I would have never thought of.
Months later, as I forgot about my desire to be reunited with the medicine songs, a friend invited me to sit in a Temazcal (Native Mexican sweat lodge used for physical, emotional, and spiritual purification) for her birthday celebration. I sat in the privately arranged Temazcal and enjoyed it so much that I started attending the community’s bi-weekly Temazcal gatherings. I enjoyed myself deeply at these gatherings. I was even invited to say the prayers over the last section of the Temazcal that represented the door and direction of gratitude. The Temazcal feels so rejuvenating for me and connects me with Mother Earth’s heartbeat as the heartbeat inside of me. Oh, I love that feeling.
A few weeks later, the grandfather of the house that holds these Temazcal gatherings invited me to his family’s drum circle weekly on Thursday nights! This invitation was not open to the public, so I felt honored and excited. Grateful to be invited, of course, I showed up the following Thursday night. As soon as I arrived, I was handed a songbook.
I nearly cried. The songs found me!
I was not just invited to the weekly drum circle. I was invited to learn the Nahuatl songs of our healing traditions.
My prayers had been answered in the most unexpected of ways, just like my black messenger bag appearing from a corner of my room I never thought to look in.
I’ve been praying for as long as I can remember, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop. Even when I don’t believe in prayer, I pray. And something magical always surfaces.
I pray in every moment of every day. For me, for my family, for your family, for our friends, for our sacred lands, and for the entire world. I pray through my being, through my breath.
I trust, with confidence, that someone, somewhere, is listening.
And even if nobody is, I know that I hold the power of my own prayers - providing answers for myself from my own heart that my mind would have never thought of.
Oh this was beautiful, Azalea. I needed this -- this message, this calling to me to seek in prayer. I have rarely prayed in life. We pray over meals, and I will say, it is lovely to send out, and call forth, grateful vibes as a family before a family moment. But otherwise, I have rarely prayed. Even in church. Even when responding, "Lord, hear our prayer."
I have wondered about prayer for a long time. I have thought about it. But again, rarely done it. Rarely *felt* it.
Maybe if I do it, the meaning will come. The connection with Heaven and God and earth and all that is, will come. If I do it.
Let me try here. Try to write the words and to feel them. And maybe the doing, the practice, is all.
"Heaven, today please remember those whom we mortals too often forget -- the sad, the lonely, the homeless, the anxious, the worried, the grieving, the old, and the sick. Send to their hearts Your Love and the Love of All.
"Bring peace to hearts, and let that peace be the beginning of change in the one, in the family, in the city, in the nation, and among nations. Blessed Are the Peacemakers.
"Heaven, you have given me gifts. Let me be aware of those gifts and use them to the best of my ability, and to your Good and your Purpose. I have for so long felt confusion and frustration about my path and the gifts I carry with me on my path. Aid my discernment and understanding. Help me know and feel my gifts inside me. Help me know -- truly know and appreciate and love -- myself.
"Help me see what is, and to love all, and to act in love always. Amen."
Thank you for giving me this space, and moment, Azalea.