The greatest gifts we can offer one another . . .

My life, by choice, is now more focused on the simple pleasures than was the case while in my fifties and sixties.  Perhaps that’s normal maturity.  The body gets tired.  The mind seeks freedom from worry.  And with age, our relationships generally become less intense; if we are lucky, they mellow out.  The expenditure of time, to make them more peaceful, has already been spent.  At 75, I’ve spent a lot of time.  And it was all worth it.

My guess is that regardless of age, you share these same thoughts.  Or are trying to, at least.  But I believe it’s worth our time to ruminate about a few  gifts.  I have certainly learned over the years the value of repetition coupled with the practice of specific virtues.

The gift that comes first to my mind is the gift of prayer.  When I was a youngster, my prayers were simple.  Now I lay me down to sleep . . .  was the only one I knew by heart.  Not having been raised in a very actively Christian home, praying before meals or at bedtime was not a big deal.  Uncle George, when he was in a sober spell, offered up long, rambling prayers before our large family gatherings, but the meal wasn’t held up if he wasn’t to be found.  However, prayer has become a mainstay for me.  It quiets my mind and heart.  I can do it silently, while with others; and I can do it ritualistically before meditation.  I don’t pray for things.  I used to, of course.  “Don’t let Steve dump me, God.” “Please let me pass this exam.”

But even when the prayers were childish and pleading, they effectively helped me stop worrying.  It reminds me of the proverbial God Box that every person in 12 step recovery is introduced to.  The relief I got every time I needed to talk to God about a situation, was palpable.  I’d write down my concern, put it carefully in my God Box, and quite miraculously forget it.  It worked because I believed it worked.  My God Box was always full.  The power of prayer can’t be overestimated.

Let’s move on to another gift.  The one that comes rushing into my mind next is the gift of silence.  I grew up in a noisy family.  My dad was often angry so it wasn’t unusual to hear loud voices and lots of cursing.  I dreaded his coming home from work many days.  You could tell by the time he got out of the car if supper time was going to be peaceful or loud.  It never seemed to be simply fun.

I, too, became a loud, angry person.  I fought him, tried to stand up for my mom and brother, and mostly suffered an upset stomach for my efforts.  I didn’t begin to appreciate the power and the effectiveness of silence until I made a commitment to the program of Al-Anon, and even though I have been active in that 12 step program for a long time, mastering the practice of silence relies on daily adherence.

What is it about silence that makes it so valuable?  I have thought about this long and hard.  What I have to say isn’t new.  Choosing to be silent rather than being engaged in a discussion that is headed into a power struggle pays off.  I know.  I have spent countless hours practicing this, sometimes successfully, some times not so successfully.   Choosing to be silent, as long as it’s not a resentful choice, is beneficial, for a number of reasons.

First it’s a great demonstration to others that not every argument has to be joined.  It’s also an example of “choosing peace,” rather than an alternative.  I heard a great acronym at an AA meeting a few years ago.  It was W.A.I.T.  It stands for “why am I talking?”  I’m certainly guilty of talking something to death.  And I’ve been privy to others who do it too.  Opting to be quiet, even once in a while, is freeing.  It’s like opening a window and letting the stuffiness out.  If it’s not a general practice of yours, consider making it one.  Even for a week.  It can add unexpected pleasure to your encounters with others.

Ahhh.  Silence.  How very sweet.