It’s difficult to be that unproductive

One of the many challenges I face when trying to have even just 7 minutes of silence, is the nagging feeling that it’s a “waste of time”. There I said it. That sounds awful, but it’s the truth. I mean I’m here trying to get my mind silent, while I’m sitting and doing nothing. I’m not even supposed to daydream. I keep reminding myself that this is to put myself in a position where I might be in the presence of God. Or I might open up my receptivity to him. Honestly right now it’s a struggle. I committed myself to 7 minutes every morning on weekends and morning & arrival home from work on week days. I’m going to just make myself do it for the first 30 days and see. 

The longest seven minutes

Seven minutes. Just seven minutes, that’s all I’m starting with. I’m committing myself to a time of silence twice each day. I’ll record here how it goes.

I’m captivated by a story about mother Theresa. As the story goes, she was interviewed about prayer. During the interview she said she listens to God. The interviewer asked her what God said to her, and she said he listens to her. I don’t fully understand what she was saying but it draws me. With human people, with whom I’m close, I can sit in silence and feel connected. I want to get to that place with God. A pastor named Rich Villodas quotes some neuroscientist who claims that consistent, routine, time in silence rewires the brain in ways that lead to enhanced creativity & other positive things.

So far, as I’ve sought these times of silence, my thoughts have bounced all over the place. I was encouraged when I read that Thomas Keating said that if your mind gets distracted 10,000 times in 20 minutes of prayer, it’s 10,000 opportunities to return to God. I can relate to this.

The other thing I’ve always seemed to experience super briefly at the beginning of a time of silence is a “smiley” feeling. I don’t think this is something God is giving me, I think it’s something I’m feeling. It’s the feeling of getting to be close to someone I’m super delighted likes me. It’s a little bit of a smug feeling. I think I saw the same feeling in my oldest son once. He can be a bit gruff/crabby. He’s been crabby all day with all of us and then he laid down on the couch and put his head in his wife’s lap . The look on his face was a very small smile and kind of a smug expression. It was like he felt like he was the luckiest guy in the world and he got Rachel. Not sure if I’m explaining this very well. But that’s kind of how I feel briefly whenever I enter into any time of silence.