Prayer or Talking to and through My Heart
July 01, 2024
Rabbi Zev Wolf, the Hasidic master of Zhitomir (where my maternal grandmother is from), taught:
Do not think that the words of prayer as you say them go up to God. It is not the words themselves that ascend; it is rather the burning desire of your heart that rises like smoke toward heaven. If your prayer consists only of words and letters, and does not contain your heart’s desire—how can it rise up to God?
Using words to think about prayer and praying makes me realize that words are clothes: covering up that which is within and revealing that which is to be shared.
They are patterns on a page, even when written from the depths of my heart and read with heart, they will always represent a distance: the space between thought, expression, and reception.
On Passover this year, when my mother was about to light the Yizkor (memorial) candles in memory of her father, mother, sister, and husband, I asked if she wanted me to get the Kaddish (Jewish prayer for the dead) prayer for her to recite. “No, she said, “I’ll do it from my heart.” We stood silently, remembering.
It is not that I need to believe that God knows what is in my heart, it is that I need to understand what guides my thoughts and emotions without pinning them down with specific words. It is not about offering words to God; rather, it is for me to be aware of what motivates, demoralizes, energizes, and encapsulates me, and what it is that I yearn for.
Prayer: to feel my heart, to learn from shared insights, to be within my life force, and to acknowledge that this is within that which was, is, and will be.
The Israeli hostages are still in captivity. Bring them home now!
Beautiful post, Laura. I love the image of your mother praying the Kaddish from her heart. This is the calm I need right now.
Posted by: Margaret | July 05, 2024 at 11:03 AM
Thank you, Margaret.
Staying focused amid awareness.
Posted by: Laura of RTOAW | July 05, 2024 at 12:33 PM