My friend, Myca, wakes up at 5 am and the first thing she does every morning is yoga. She moves her body in prayer and devotion.
Andy and I attend Qigong every Wednesday evening and we stand in a circle with others, gently and slowly moving our arms and hands, defining and connected to invisible but tangible balls of energy, taking the energy up to our heads and drawing the energy down through our bodies, gathering it at our feet. We are healing our bodies and stilling our minds.
These days, when I meditate and pray, my arms and hands automatically start to move into positions of prayer, hands together, or stretched up to the heavens in worship or offering or acceptance. Sometimes, I find myself slowly spinning, like a whirling dervish, as I gather or send out energy. I may move through poses and stances that seem like dance movements from another time, another land. Movements of surrender, love and sometimes even desperation. Sometimes movements of power, sometimes a request for healing, sometimes a plea for divine grace to descend, sometimes my body just needs to move. And the beauty of it is, nothing is planned or thought out, it is simply happening because my body starts doing it all on its own. All are movements of prayer, of devotion and meditation, all are a part of the sacred language our bodies speak when we are at our most open and projecting or receiving the most pure and sacred energy.
We don’t just need to pray with words or thoughts, we don’t just have to meditate with closed eyes in silent stillness. Sometimes, our bodies wish to talk in movements of graceful prayer and serene devotion. Let your body move, let your love flow.
This image of a wind turbine, captured from the car as we sped past at top speed on the motorway, happened to be caught at a moment when it appeared like a human figure, head thrown back and arms reaching out.