praying kinesthetically

I have an inner altar where I set things I want white light poured on. Last night I dreamt I had become the altar. Then it shifted and the whole world became the altar. I fell into a deep sleep.

I pray between my snooze alarms. I start with gratitudes; just say thank you for the first couple rounds. Seek help on my projects. Lay open for messages. It varies. I do 4 or 5 prayers before getting up, seven minutes each. I plan for a half hour of snoozing when I set the alarm.

I used to use that time to dream. Now I use it to commune. It's like horse dreams. Drowsing, uncomplicated.

The more kinesthetic the environment -- immersed in a hot-tub, or surrounded by bedding -- the more honest my prayers.

I read about a Russian monk whose form of prayer was a silencing of himself. He would go outside in Nature at dusk and listen. Some days there would be a message. Often nothing. Sometimes just his own restless thoughts. He didn't expect anything. To be available was the act of prayer.

I have an ex-missionary friend who smokes and prays. I had her do it out loud one time so I could listen. I envied her the depth of the relationship.

The fictional and the dead are not less real to me than the living.

I invite Stanislavski & Chekhov to every rehearsal. I read today that Twyla Tharp put an invisible Balanchine in the corner of her studio and kept him there for 20 years. Just so he could keep telling her, "It's not right. Fix it."