"There is a way of beholding nature that is itself a form of prayer."
- Diane Ackerman
Prayer, for me, isn't usually about asking for things.
(Though sometimes it is.)
More often, it feels like reverent attention - a pause in which I listen rather than speak. And somehow, that listening transforms things.
Folding gives my hands something to do while my thoughts settle. Each crease accompanies a slow breath. Each turn of the paper gathers intention.
This lotus-like bud feels like an offering - something I can cradle in my hands that stands in for longing, or gratitude, or emotions too nebulous for words.
The open space on the tag above it becomes a place for whatever wishes to be spoken aloud... or only held in the heart - a small altar where fears and dreams can rest side by side.
Today I am practicing prayer through making - one small gesture within an ongoing exploration of how attention itself becomes devotion.
