Non-Specific Prayers

One of the non-specific prayers that I offer up every morning, especially if I have something troubling going on or something confusing or, most commonly, something that I'm trying to dictate the outcome of . . . where was I?  Oh, yes, the prayer.  It's along the lines of: "Please show me the path I should take with this issue."  That sounds pretty prissy and not at all like something I would actually say.  My prayer to a Higher Power who is perfectly capable of taking any lip and attitude I can dish out and is not at all offended by my foul language is more along the lines of: "Hey, what the %$!! should I do here?"


I think the goal is to try to avoid the brick walls and to spot the tree-lined paths leading to pleasant little parks.  It's inevitable that every now and then I'm going to go nose-first into a brick wall and overlook the pleasant park.  I'm only human.  The idea today is to quit walking into the brick wall over and over again, hoping that my nose battering finally brings the thing down.  And I try to quit saying: "Hey, I don't want to go to that wuss park.  Where's the trail to the Black Sabbath concert?"


There's a Simpson's episode much beloved in the Horseface household where Homer is floating along in a canoe when he comes to a fork in the river.  One side is full of flowers and birds and rainbows and the other side looks like the aftermath of a nuclear explosion.


"Hmm.  Wonder which way I should go?" Homer muses.


For instance, when we were pondering the big move from The Old City to The New City it was tempting to engage my self-locomotion and force the issue.  Instead, I tried to indicate what it was that I wanted to do but to agree to try, to the best of my ability, to listen to the soft, still voice of my conscience.  There were green lights and there were red lights and there were a hell of a lot of yellow lights.  I think the trick was to choose an outcome and head that way.  I don't believe that is an improper use of the will.  I believe we get to make choices and decisions down here, to the best of our ability, trying to listen for the occasional tap on the shoulder or box to the ear, then change direction accordingly.


When you come to a fork in the road, take it.