"I want to be loved..." a strange-feeling prayer. Maybe what your soul wants is not what you think?

another new year is coming with all those intentions, resolutions, and formulas to make this the year you do better, achieve "that" thing, finally figure out how to do what you came to do...

What if it could be easy?

I was lying on a massage table surrounded in crystals at a Holistic Healing festival. For $10 I could have 30 minutes to lie there and imbibe the frequencies of this contraption purchased by the lady there, from John of God in Brazil.

A friend of mine had visited John of God and brought me a tiny, pyramid-shaped crystal which she gave me for my birthday. I knew she had one of these tables, although I had never tested it out.

So when I saw it, I figured, “why not?”

The cavernous room with a concrete floor was chilly and filled with echoing voices of people selling healing stones, Tarot readings, and various keys to more ease in a world that seems to fight against anything being easy…or maybe that is just us humans and ease is there all the time?

Anyway, there I was lying on the table as the woman placed some large headphones on me and told me to allow the angelic beings to work while I relaxed and listened to music.

So, I did. It felt nice and I allowed myself to slip into some kind of state that was happening at a different frequency from the room around me.

Time passed quickly and soon we were done. At least I thought I was done. As I stood up, she said the angels gave her a message for me, which she said, didn’t happen often.

Of course, this piqued my curiosity. What did the angels have to say to me? Would it be wonderful? Would it be uplifting? Would it seem right and real?

Then she told me.

“They want you to pray more.”

What?

What?!!!!!

I didn’t pray. I wasn’t even religious. What was she talking about? I didn’t even know how to pray. I told her so as images of Catholic churches and people with hands folded as they begged an all-powerful God to give them things or fix their lives floated uncomfortably through my mind.

Undaunted, she paused, tilted her head slightly, listening to what appeared to be invisible beings, and said, “They want you to pray like you used to, when you were a child.”

Again… What!!!!? I didn’t pray when I was a child.

I told her.

She told me I was wrong.

That I had just forgotten that I used to and that I could do it again. The angels wanted me to start.

I left a bit confused and resistant. Maybe I was slightly grumpy? I wasn’t so sure how I felt about anything. For sure, I knew I didn’t see “God” as a being someone, like a person, to pray to, and I was very resistant to traditional religion with so many have-tos and contradictions.

But that message stuck with me and I toyed with it. Later I asked a teacher about it. What did she mean?

Now, years later, I talk to subtle beings I call angels in my mind. Once, during a life-changing experience with psychedelic mushrooms, a newly-purchased magic wand, and a supportive friend nearby, I dove into an altered state to get my main life question about my purpose answered.

The weather in this world became stormy as I tenaciously sat holding my wand insisting “God” show up and answer me. I am stubborn. I am a bit of a warrior. Some people might call me difficult.

At one point in my altered state, there were some other beings in a room with me (somewhere else that I recognized), listening. I think they were angels.

I told them strongly to “Get OUT!” This was between me and God and I was going to get my answer. I held his or her metaphorical lapels and stared him or her down. I stared God in the eyes hard. Except there was not a someone to do that with…there was a presence there with me and I was having it out with that something.

And I got my answer. I am still digesting it. I am still grateful for it.

It was worth it to be stubborn and to have that much intention.

It was validating that the weather in the physical world responded by becoming stormy. There was lightning and thunder crashing over my head. I think it was the “holding God by the lapels” thing I was doing. It probably helped to have a new magic wand in my hands. Ebony with a round opal on the end and a spiral twist in it…in case you were wondering….

All of that is to let you know that prayer itself, what it means, and how to do it, has been a journey for me.

Often now, I find my thoughts are prayers.

That is what happened recently on the beach.

Sometimes I think something and some words float into my head in response. I know they don’t come from my mind because my mind will jump up startled from it’s easy chair of talking, talking, talking and start sputtering. What?! What was that?! That makes no sense. Then my mind will start arguing.

That is how I know the words come from somewhere else. Since I only listen to a certain frequency of somewhere else, I figure they come from God, my soul, or the angels and guides here (or there depending on how you look at it) to help me.

You don’t have to believe any of those things.

Some people feel we are living in a computer simulation.

Or that this world is illusory. Some people call it Maya.

It doesn’t matter.

All this works regardless. You don’t have to believe anything.

Which brings me to a few days ago, when I was walking along the beach in Southern California, holding two rocks I had found with the intention of crafting a Christmas prayer and blessing for each of my sons, and leaving them with a scruffy rock artist named Larry, doing some magic on the beach. He was busy balancing rocks into the form of a nativity scene, along with impossible pillars topped with heart-shaped stones.

Larry, creative artist and prayer crafter, photo by Terra Brooke

Larry had talked to me earlier about heart seeds, agape love, and bible scenes that inspired him. He had a hand made card he offered to give me for free with a seed embedded in the paper to remind me that we are all seeding each others hearts with beauty.

So, something inspired me to put an intention for the boys in the midst of Larry’s scene, if he didn’t mind. It felt like lighting a candle for someone in a church.

You may not do that either. I am serious when I say I am not traditionally religious.

Climbing Crough Patrick, photo by Jeremy

But when my son and I climbed Crough Patrick, (the highest mountain in Ireland that people climb as a pilgrimage), and (after passing pilgrims of all ages struggling and encouraging each other in their comforting Irish accents) we reached the peak, and (after gazing at the most beautiful clear-sky scene before me that looked a lot like heaven), and we found the chapel at the top that was supposed to be closed was open, and we saw some candles inside…

We lit one. Each. And we sent a prayer out to something.

Chapel prayers, photo by Terra Brooke

We remembered my son’s father who passed away. We prayed for my other son, who was struggling.

And I left an acorn prayer in a cairn of rocks where others had left photos of people they loved, various trinkets, and a string of rosary beads. I left a black acorn that I had picked up and saved for something. It was in my pocket. Waiting and ready. My son and I found a spot for it together and tucked it away, hidden, in the midst of all those things. It was another prayer and an offering.

Cairn on Crough Patrick, photo by Terra Brooke

That is a little background for you.

I don’t know how to pray, but I do.

With candles, acorns, and a few days ago…I intended to craft a few prayers with two rocks on the beach and leave them on the altar of what Larry was creating.

But what were my prayers for my two boys?

Prayer is less about asking or begging for things for me. Somehow, that just doesn’t work or feel right. It feels like disempowerment couched as humility.

I think I had a moment of real humility when I started noticing and feeling that I had no idea how to do the rock-prayer thing.

So I thought to myself, “Terra, what would you pray for yourself? What is your prayer?” (I figured that that would help me somehow feel how to do something special for them, or craft something with the agape field of love…you know…artfully. But I really didn’t feel I knew how to paint).

That is when the prayer words came to me and kicked my mind out of the recliner it was relaxing in.

“I want to be loved.”

Simple right? So easy. Of course.

Except my mind immediately told me that was silly. It told me I was loved. Deeply. By people. By angelic beings.

That was a silly prayer that I did not need.

My mind (sneaky bugger that it is) asked me what I was thinking with those silly words?

But I knew they didn’t come from thinking.

I tried other words to see if they felt more resonant, but they didn’t.

Those were the words for me, even if I didn’t understand.

So as I walked, I wondered about them. What happens in me and for me, if I pray that?

“I want to be loved?”

I noticed that something in me, in my soul and energy field, had to get a little softer. Something in me was shifting to allow for something.

Love is easy to resist because it can be couched in so many messy ways.

I imagine there are aspects of my soul that were and are still resisting it, despite meeting magical people like Larry.

Do you want to be loved?

(I bet something happened when you read or heard that).

Did your mind jump up and sputter that that is silly? That you are? That you have that partner or someone who loves you?

Or maybe it was the opposite thing. That love is hopeless. That you are very sure you are alone and lonely and wanting something that has not been there for you is just…silly.

And you certainly don’t want to get your hopes up again. That would hurt too much.

Instead you reach for something else pretending to offer love. It feels less risky.

All this is to say that I have found myself wondering and holding those words softly like a baby bird in a nest. Maybe, just maybe, they are a good prayer for me.

And after all that, which happened rather quickly as it flew through my system as thought, inspiration, and memories do… I found myself ready to sit on a rock and imbue the two rocks that had called to me, with prayers for my two boys.

I am sure it had to do with a similar theme and in the end, whatever I was asking for was more of a feeling that I couldn’t put into words. More like wishes that came from love and a something that my mind, wasn’t meant to know or understand.

It didn’t take long and I stood up and headed back towards Larry to see how his nativity scene and Christo-esqu art project on the beach was coming along.

Larry was done, or taking a break, and chatting with some people by his camper. The nativity scene had changed. It was stunning. It was impossible.

Larry had made it through the art of dance. He told me that’s how he did it. He danced with gravity, with the energy of the rock…he danced to find that perfect place of balance with everything. He talked about a trinity. I can’t tell you what he meant exactly and it was clearly working for Larry.

I thought of putting my rocks near the nativity scene and it didn’t feel right.

So I took them to Larry.

He had a grey and black kitten crawling around his shoulders and another orange, scruffy cat that belonged to him watching from the ground below. Larry was explaining to the people how the kitten’s silver fur seemed to be getting more silvery in a beautiful way and I felt my own silver locks billowing in the wind, the years ticking forward, resolutely. I felt like Larry was talking to me.

When there was a break in the conversation, I showed Larry my two rock prayers and asked if he would add them to the nativity scene.

Rock prayers, photo by Terra Brooke

He took them from me with a gleam in his eye and informed me that they were powerful. He could feel the heat in them.

Then I saw that Larry didn’t just give cards away for free, he also sold photos of his creations and greeting cards, embedded with heart seeds.

I bought eight. When I got home I showed them to my mom who hunkered down with them like they were bread from heaven. She read the backs, where Larry had written words about forgiveness and grace. I told her she could have one and she sat sorting through. Then she informed me she wanted to buy a few from me.

Mom wanted a little Larry energy. She wanted one of those cards to give to her friend.

She was feeling those heart seeds from her soft armchair where often, her mind likes to talk to me.

But Larry was not a mind thing.

The next day, Mom called him.

She struggles to use a cell phone and on the back of the cards, Larry left his phone number.

So while I was at the river, she had a little chat with him.

She mentioned she thought it would be nice if he visited their 10 acres here. Maybe he would park his camper for a while? You never know, she said.

I am leaving soon, so all of this was very sweet.

And mom got her cards, (for free bless her heart), and I have sent some wishes and prayers out to the universe, the energy field, or something…that knows a lot more than me.

It knows that my prayer, despite all I know and believe, is simple.

I want to be loved.

Ok.

So shall it be.

Larry’s nativity scene, photo by Terra

This is Larry’s YouTube channel, which I haven’t watched. He gives away and sells cards like these:

Maybe you’ll find him sometime, on the beach. He will be praying and listening. He will be balancing things. He will be dancing with divine energy.