Greeting the Day

Prayer for most spiritual seekers becomes a life-long exploration that is re-visited continuously.

We yearn for enthusiasm on days weighted with ennui,
meaning when it all seems meaningless,
and connection when we feel separate.

From experience I intuit that prayer is my go-to place, yet keeping this almost abstract activity effective and relevant requires maintenance.

Rote recitation, like a mantra, can provide a centering when overstimulated, and gives me a sense of connection to the divine, but there are times when I need something else from prayer.

That something more today is understanding. Why do I pray today? What do I hope to achieve?

In the context of this blog, heroin addiction (substitute any form of false God--gambling and crimes of money, body image obsession, shopping, crystal meth) and the toll it takes on our spiritual condition, I believe the answer to my question is to find strength and trust that my actions matter.

I cannot cure my family member's compulsion, just as my prayers in hospital as assistant Chaplain will not cure the patient's affliction.

This excerpt from jewishvirtuallibrary.org on blessing/prayer gave me the insight I was looking for:

Many English-speaking people find the idea of berakhot very confusing. To them, the word "blessing" seems to imply that the person saying the blessing is conferring some benefit on the person he is speaking to. For example, in Catholic tradition, a person making a confession begins by asking the priest to bless him. Yet in a berakhah, the person saying the blessing is speaking to G-d. How can the creation confer a benefit upon the Creator?
This confusion stems largely from difficulties in the translation. The Hebrew word "barukh" is not a verb describing what we do to G-d; it is an adjective describing G-d as the source of all blessings. When we recite a berakhah, we are not blessing G-d; we are expressing wonder at how blessed G-d is.

Today, whether our loved one is alive, or our loved one has died from an addiction but lives in our memories, let us feel connected to the wonder of the divine, and know that our lives still matter.