A Witch's Prayer

Being present with the uncomfortable, calling on power, and knowledge to overcome an obstacle that brings discouragement and self doubt.

What do witches do when they have lost hope?

Do they pray? Do they rage in their ritual and send the outrage and frustration to the universe? Every witch has a different way of handling their grief and loss of hope. I find myself praying to the great nurturing force of the universe.

Mother, is how I address this power. I call out to Mother, and I tell of my hurt. I open up my heart and spill out all the disappointment and confusion. I explain how utterly lost I am, blind to my sense of direction. I cry and give my tears up to whoever holds them precious.

When I do this, my emotions flow through me. The flow is a river that rages until the pressure lessens, racking my body with its force and leaving me exhausted. The only option left to me is to rest. To rest, spent and at last calm enough to forget how utterly broken I feel in the moments when my hope is most diminished. Yet that is what is necessary most often, rest makes many things minor battles to win in the dawn of tomorrow. This is what the force I call Mother brings most often, the most necessary course of action.

Perhaps this is a holdover habit, so deeply ingrained in me from being raised as a Lutheran Christian. Even if that is the case, I have adapted the practice to suit my current form of spiritual expression.

I can feel a presence with me, in these isolated moments of confession—a force, an energy that hears the words spoken from my heart of hearts. An encompassing wave of intelligent understanding is a way to frame this sensation—a moment held in the arms of creation, a safe space where things stand still. It is a connection for the sake of connection. I am not asking Mother for anything but to listen. She listens, I talk, and a transfer takes place. Turmoil is exchanged for peace, confusion is changed into faith, and devastation once more turns itself back into hope.

Conversations with creation

Prayer is not something that gets mentioned in magical circles. In my opinion, this is because, as practitioners, many of us view our rituals and spells as our form of prayer, albeit in a different form. The governing principles remain similar, however. Yet, nights like tonight make me pause and think about that. I agree with the perspective that spells and rituals are a form of prayer, but I also view them as a form of physical action—an action we plan and then enact to change circumstances or luck for ourselves. Yet prayer — prayer is something done passively. I see prayer as an exchange of information —a sounding board, the ear we all need but rarely actually have.

Prayer is a conversation with creation itself. A force that will listen, without bias, that gives neither bad advice nor sound advice. Creation takes no sides and offers no logic, but creation understands. Creation, as a sentient force, understands all that we would say, because all things stem from creation. Prayer is effective because it is a mental/verbal process through which ideas, guilt, grief, and a need for direction can be expressed without pressure for response.

I express both sides of the emotional spectrum when I ask creation to spend a moment and listen to my words. I have conversations in the morning sometimes, on the way to work. Usually expressions of gratitude. Which raises my frequency and sets the tone for the frequency I attract to myself that day. The support is there when I need it, but everything is an exchange in this world. Not every exchange is a matter of physical cost; however, sometimes information is the actual exchange. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not preaching. I don’t wish to sound like I’m converting masses here. However, I am trying to spark a conversation with all of you. How many of you talk with creation?

• When do you have these talks?

• Do you only reach out when feeling hurt, lost, or confused?

• Do you reach out even when times are good? Do they feel like a form of prayer to you?