Alternative Therapies: Centering Prayer

My name is Sarah, and I am anxious. I've been anxious as long as I can remember. I get anxious before I teach, every single day. I get anxious before I write. I get anxious in social situations. I get anxious before choir practice. I remember telling a couple of friends that I was getting dizzy at work meetings. "Um, Sarah?" they said.  "Those are panic attacks."

I can't take drugs for it, because all SSRIs make me sleep twelve hours a day, or more.

Every alternative-type infertility book I have read waxes expansive about the dreadful effects of stress on the reproductive system. This makes me feel terrible. I can't seem to control my anxiety, and the thought that anxiety is preventing pregnancy makes me even more anxious.

By the time Lent rolled around this year, my anxiety was out of control. TTC + bad test results will do that to you.

I decided I didn't really have any food stuffs to give up for Lent.  As soon as I got my test results I kicked alcohol, sugar, caffeine and most dairy. And I have to eat meat for my kidney yang. I decided instead to recommit to the Centering Prayer. The Centering Prayer is a kind of Christian meditation. Most of the time, when I pray, I talk to God. I talk and talk and talk. The Centering Prayer is a way of praying by intentionally listening to God's voice, rather than talking. I choose a sacred word (mine is Yahweh--and I apologize to Jews who may be reading this, but that's what it is), I invite God to speak to me ("Speak, Lord, your servant is listening). I relax and let my thoughts go. When an interesting thought comes along that commands my attention, I gently repeat my sacred word and let the thought go.

"What if I never get pregnant?" I let it go.
"What if adoption doesn't work out for us?" I let it go.
"What if I ovulate early/late/not at all this month?" I let it go.

God doesn't talk to me in English. In fact, God's voice doesn't usually sound like a voice at all. Sometimes I feel loved and at peace.  Sometimes, I battle my thoughts for my entire prayer time and I don't feel a thing, except a sense of disappointment for failing to meditate properly. I let it go.

I know God is speaking to me because my life becomes easier. I become easier to live with, more patient, less likely to pick fights with DH, more forgiving, less judgmental. I become less anxious (though I suspect that I will have a lifelong battle with anxiety).

Halfway through Lent, my DH said to me, "You haven't told me what you're doing for Lent, but I know that you're working on something, because I've noticed the difference in you and I want to thank you."

It's amazing how twenty minutes a day can change your life.