"Poems, Prayers, & Promises" #1

Featuring Mary Oliver and Chloe Hanslip

Welcome to “Poems, Prayers, & Promises”

Remember, you’re the co-creator of this dive. Do as much or as little as you’d like, when you’d like, how you’d like, with the materials I provide. Just keep gentle faith with yourself.

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Set your intention

Take a moment to name the primary intention you have for this month-long deep dive and/or this particular session. Take a quiet moment to center yourself in that intention.

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Enter the music

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Read the poem

I invite you to read this poem twice—aloud, at least once. You may also listen to Mary Oliver’s reading, perhaps with your eyes closed. (The recording at the link should start automatically.)

I HAPPENED TO BE STANDING
Mary Oliver

I don’t know where prayers go,
     or what they do.
Do cats pray, while they sleep
     half-asleep in the sun?
Does the opossum pray as it
     crosses the street?
The sunflowers? The old black oak
     growing older every year?
I know I can walk through the world,
     along the shore or under the trees,
with my mind filled with things
     of little importance, in full
self-attendance.  A condition I can’t really
     call being alive.
Is a prayer a gift, or a petition,
     or does it matter?
The sunflowers blaze, maybe that’s their way.
Maybe the cats are sound asleep.  Maybe not.

While I was thinking this I happened to be standing
just outside my door, with my notebook open,
which is the way I begin every morning.
Then a wren in the privet began to sing.
He was positively drenched in enthusiasm,
I don’t know why.  And yet, why not.
I wouldn’t persuade you from whatever you believe
or whatever you don’t.  That’s your business.
But I thought, of the wren’s singing, what could this be
     if it isn’t a prayer?
So I just listened, my pen in the air.

(from Devotions, 2017)

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Contemplate/Create

Use any of these questions however you wish—e.g., as openings for meditation or prayer, as prompts for journaling or poetry-writing, as sparks for drawing or painting, as catalysts for change-making . . . You may also ignore my questions altogether to go off in other directions!

• Imagine that you are the narrator of the poem, standing just outside your door with your notebook open, listening. What would you hear? What would you write?

• What does the narrator of the poem seem to think about prayer, even after saying “I don’t know where prayers go, / or what they do”? According to the narrator, what might be some main features of prayer?

• At this moment, what do you believe about prayer? What do you not believe about prayer? How open are you to allowing your ideas about prayer to continue to evolve?

• The narrator of the poem is prompted to reflect on prayer by other beings: cats, an opossum, a black oak, sunflowers, a wren. How (if at all) do non-humans impact your own understanding of prayer?

• What do you think it means to “be alive”?

• The narrator has a morning practice of going outside with an open notebook. Do you have a daily creative or spiritual practice of your own? If you do, why do you value it? Would you like to change it in any way? If you don’t have such a practice, would you like to? What kind of practice might be helpful to you? Is this a good time to begin?

• Does your consideration of this poem move you to make any kind of promise to yourself or someone else?

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Want to visit with other Rafters in the Deep Dive?

Here are two options: either leave a comment on this post using the button, or join the chat thread dedicated to this Deep Dive. (Note: if you haven’t created a Substack profile yet, you’ll be asked to do so before you can comment or chat.)

These materials are for educational purposes only. Not for sale or reproduction.

Join us on August 5 for “Rafter Refuge”!

6:30-8:00PM Central (7:30 ET, 5:30 MT, 4:30 PT)

Let’s close this Deep Dive with a time of sharing. Come and reflect with other Rafters on “Poems, Prayers, & Promises.” Registration is required for this celebration.

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Questions? Never hesitate to contact me.

See you tomorrow.