Hey friends.
I’ve been wrestling with the idea of prayer. Like, what the heck is prayer? It has never been a part of my belief system. Then I became a parent, and — at 3AM with a wailing kid in my arms — I’d find myself asking for help. And it would often work, ish. Something about admitting my powerlessness, throwing myself down, throwing my arms wide, throwing it all out there. It was often a relief, like I wrote about in When Everything Is Fucked.
And yet, as a novice supplicant, I’ve also had the persistent sense that I’m missing something important. Like I’m in a one-sided relationship with reality, always broke and asking for favors.
Then, a couple months ago, I had a conversation about prayer with some random dude at a party (as one does). He said: “Prayer isn’t asking, it’s thanking.” Then he chugged a beer and wandered off.
The best stuff happens at parties!
Since then, I’ve been experimenting. When I notice myself wanting anything — wanting the world situation to be different, wanting to live somewhere else, wanting my family to be happier — I try to notice the wanting. Instead of saying “I wish …” I say, “Thank you, I don’t know why.”
It makes no rational sense, But I don’t need it to, because that’s not where my attention is. My attention is on the bit of space that opens up. I sit and wait in that clearing.
At first, there are no visitors. No fuzzy, loving emotions. No top-down mental exhortations to be grateful for the sun shining, or my warm winter socks, or whatever. It’s just me and the raw situation. “Thank you, I don’t know why.”
I’m not actually looking for a reason why. But a reason often finds me.
A subtle sense of compassion, a creative reframing of the situation, a recognition that there’s some valuable connection already happening right here. It can be so many things. And then it’s like: “Ahhh. I actually am grateful for that.”
In this particular prayer practice, it’s not my wanting that gets answered so much as my thanking.
What are we really after when we want something?
For myself, well … I really do want the thing: the fixed relationship, the improved life, the better world. Obviously. It’s still there as a goal or a cause or an intention to work toward. And, whether I realize it or not, in the moment, I’m also after the feeling of peace and satisfaction of finally having the thing I want. So why not skip right over the literal thing, and go straight to some modest satisfaction, which — if I’m receptive — may be available right now?
I got to test out this practice on
(Home Base’s managing editor and my good friend) a couple weeks ago. She texted me out of the blue. Here’s our conversation:
LILLI
I fucking hate my life. Do you have a meditation for that?
JEFF
Yes, it’s called going to the gym.
And … I'm sorry you're feeling that way. My new practice is saying thank you even in the hard moments. Try it:
LILLI (after listening)
That was exactly what I needed, now and forever. It put space in between me and the pain, like I was less identified with it. It was also a gentle reminder to not take shit so seriously all the time. Just open up. It really felt like a switch.
[1 week later]
LILLI TEXTS JEFF
Fuck. It worked. Again.
——
Whether or not this attitude is more likely to lead to getting the thing we literally want is an interesting question for another day (I think it does). What I can say is that in a time of personal and political intensity, this practice has been a way to short-circuit the part of me that only sees problems, and instead open up a space of possibility. A bit like prayer is supposed to do.
So: let’s try it. Think of this meditation as micro-R&D for subtle re-orientations in attention and intention. The primary focus will be on getting settled, then I’ll end with some reasonless gratitude. Let me know in the comments whether it helps, does nothing, or leaves you in a state of seething impatience. As a bonus for paid subscribers, I’ve included the original short voice memo I texted to Lilli, below.
Much love,
Jeff
PS - After much deliberation, beginning March 1, we will raise the monthly subscription rate to $12 (from $8). The yearly subscription will stay exactly the same at $80/year. Your support helps keep Home Base sustainable, allows us to offer free subscriptions to those who need them, and supports other pro-bono initiatives like the Do Nothing Project and The Mind Bod Adventure Pod.
As always, if the cost of a subscription is out of reach, email info@jeffwarren.org for a free one, no questions asked. I'm grateful for this community. Thank you for your continued support in helping to make this all possible!
Mind Bod Adventure Squad - One Day Retreat
May 3, 2025 · 10am - 4pm ET
Friends House, 60 Lowther Ave, Toronto, Ontario ... And virtually on ZOOM
In this day-long workshop retreat thing,
and Jeff Warren take the spirit of their , and remake it into an in-person community meditation hang out. The subject is the weird and wonderful world of “practice,” i.e., things we can do with our minds and bodies in order to learn, grow, and heal. Offered on a sliding scale “pay what you’re able to” model.THIS WEEK ON THE MIND BOD ADVENTURE POD
This week on the Mind Bod Pod, we sit down with
, a meditation teacher, communication wizard, and all-around good human, to talk about his book, Your Heart Was Made for This.
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