Praying Ninja-Style
“What are they doing with their hands?”
My son, last night, at the dinner table. He was watching a music video of the Gypsy Kings on Youtube while eating his dinner. We have been more and more conscious of the impact of news on him lately, and today was no different — but this question, prompted by the Gypsy Kings, created an opening.
“Praying,” I said.
“What is praying?”
“…Praying is when you send positive energy into the universe.”
“…”
“You can do it in many different ways…like this…”
I bowed my head, palms to earth.
“Or, like this…”
I put my palms together, at heart-centre, and closed my eyes.
“Or, like this…”
I rested my hands on the dining room table, palms skyward, and closed my eyes.
He looked at me. Confused, but with the openness, compassion, and acceptance.
“Each way is the right way. It’s about energy and intention… What feels right to you?” I asked.
“This…”
He put his palms together, raised his arms into the air, and bowed a deep, sincere bow. A ninja bow.
“How do you pray, mom?”
I opened my palms skyward and relaxed my body. I sent out positive energy to those who died today, yesterday, and those will die tomorrow. And tried to feel compassion for those who did, and will, kill. It was hard.
“I try to pray like this,” I said.
He placed his palms together, held his elbows up high, closed his eyes and took a deep breath in; as though he was trying it on to see if it was a good fit.
“Does it feel right?” I said.
“Yes.”
“Good. Then it is right.”
He smiled.
I thought I would give it a try, too. I placed my palms together, held my elbows high, closed my eyes and took a deep breath in, and we breathed together, ninja-style. It felt right.
Sometimes, prayer is what we need: what we all need. It doesn’t matter how we do it, or where it comes from, or what prompts it, or what it represents. What matters is how it feels. And in this moment, unaware of the mass shooting in Christchurch, he did what came naturally, and so did I. We prayed ninja-style. And it was what we both needed.
