"I Found the Answer"

The answer here is, of course, the power of prayer. The song is very. . . basic. Predictable. But I'm not knocking the whole prayer thing. For those of us choosing something outside of the mainstream, 'prayer' can be almost a dirty word, with all its Judeo-Christian-Muslim-fanatic implications. It sounds right to say, though, "I'll pray for you"; much more personal than "I'll think of you", and more genuinely interpreted than one I've tried: "I'll be sending good juju your way"--though that does fit my notion of things a bit better.

I still pray throughout the day, calling out into the void, just in case. I often feel that those prayers are answered in some way, even though I have no feeling that they're heard by one big Cosmic Ear of Listening. I say them with focus and intent, though, again--just in case.

This gets me thinking about the larger topic of the unheard inner world. When I think about death, mine or someone else's, I think of the sorry of this loss: no one will ever know this voice, and no one will ever be speaking again in this voice. Maybe that's best, on the other hand. Having received two new journals for my recent birthday, I took this as a sign that I should begin to write again on a daily basis. I'm at day five and already feel as if I have nothing to say. All that I can record is this jabbering inner voice, and it's not really saying much. What happened to those bursts of brilliant inspiration? Is it the same whether you're stoned or not: when the dream become written or created reality, it's just crap? When isn't it? What has to happen for inner brilliance to become outwardly visible?

I'll pray about it.