I do not have time to pray. I do not have time to listen to another, to hear another–I do not have time to take care of the other. But here is an answer (which I once heard from Fr. John Konkle): when you think you do not have enough of something, give it to Christ and He will ask His Father to bless it and multiply it. So give your time…
Anthony Bloom’s Beginning to Pray says something similar. What prevents us from praying is allowing ourselves to be taken by the storm (p. 89); we offer ourselves to the storm, and we make our being its dwelling: we invite it in. But one cannot be the servant of two masters, of the storm and God at the same time.
Heraclitus, B85: It is difficult to fight passion, for whatever it wishes, it gets at the expense of soul. Stormy passion comes in, divine soul departs.
So perhaps prayer is inviting God in—allowing Him to dwell in me. And, all of a sudden, time expands, is transformed—for I would already be with God in prayer.
And this is how I am reminded once again: “theory, theory… But have you looked at yourself lately?”
But perhaps it is this “me” that I have to bring forward to God in prayer, this “me,” the one incapable to pray. I need to bring forward this reality, and not the phantasy that I may have of myself. The two ways of prayer, as Bloom may say, the inward and the outward. I need to go inward first, so that I know what I bring forward.
And man am I afraid to go inward…