Here we are already well into 2019 - we must be dancing the Time Warp!
Welcome to our Musings for this year, where we put forward our perspective into matters of the mind, the universe, and everything in between...
Well, I certainly seem to have opened a can of worms with this one…!
As a young child starting primary school, we had to attend compulsory classes on what was called “Scripture”, which later became “Religious Instruction”. It was a normal Government school, not one under the banner of any particular religion. The teachings then said you had to pray with hands together and fingers steepled, the reason being that your words went into your hands and up through your fingers to God sitting on his big throne in the sky. Simplistic, satisfactory for an unquestioning child.
I also figured out at the same time that God had a big instrument panel on his throne and when he pressed a button, thunder happened – another button, lightning – yet another, rain – and so on. Later in life I became a meteorologist and learnt the physics and processes behind these phenomena, but the essence I guess is probably much the same as my childhood comprehension.
Come later primary school, I had more questions than answers – I still do. I attended church with my family and parents and dared to open my eyes during the prayer sessions. I was not struck by lightning (perhaps God’s button wasn’t working), but I noticed some people were on their knees, some with the customary steepled fingers, others had fingers crossed, my father had his head in his hand with a finger over his nose – heaven knows what that meant! Yet others in the back had their heads laid back and were catching up on lost sleep from their Saturday night revelries.
Then came secondary school, and conventional religious instruction for me took off its lamb costume to show the wolf beneath. Prayer was a necessary part of supplication, of pleading for forgiveness, of being unworthy and lesser-than. I was told that the prayer position came from holding your hands in preparation for being shackled or bound. I started recognizing hypocrisy and inconsistencies. I also started hearing voices, kind voices, voices of reason. I started seeing people, kind people, people of reason. I became a healer. One of my enduring visions at this teenage time was of a pair of radiant blue hands in the same attitude of prayer from my young childhood. I still see it now as clearly as I did then, for I know this is home and that hands do far more than just convey words to a higher authority.
I found in my later teens that sick animals and people responded amazingly well after gently holding them, wounds healed quickly, crying children calmed and went to sleep. In my more recent years, I have become a Reiki master and have learnt a little about Qi Gong, and I understand that incredible energy, frequency - and love - can be transmitted through the hands.
Back to my question about why we were taught to hold our hands together in prayer… Apart from the practice being able to stop impressionable young children these days from playing on their phones during scripture classes, my naughty child’s eye pictures one of these charismatic churches with hundreds of people all waving their hands around, each hand emitting the equivalent of laser beams. It would be like a battle scene from Star Wars, no wonder the organ goes out of tune!
More seriously though, my own understanding now is that we can be, and are, channels of the purest light from Source. We need to respect that light, and know that our obligation as custodians of this little planet is to look after it and all its citizens and creatures by using that light for the greater good for all. We can do this by focusing that light through our hands, and our hearts, to wherever we feel guided in our intent.
With much love, light and profound blessings to you all.
© Kim Bright, March 2019