What if the most radical thing you could do today… was pray for the people who annoy you most? Inspired by a 2nd-century saint who prayed for everyone—even his captors—this reflection invites you into a quiet rebellion of kindness in a world addicted to outrage. Includes spiritual practice, troll management tips, and a cameo by Mr. Rogers.
Not very religious, but this fed my soul today. I feel myself and my soul turning to sandpaper each day of this joke of an administration and needed this advice. Thank you 😊
Kindness is rebellion when the world keeps trying to sell us fear. Glad you heard the quiet uprising underneath the words. Keep wielding your gentleness like a revolution.
Oh Dr. Donna, Queen of Cards and Recovering Perfectionists—
If you did manifest trolls, I humbly request you stop using that power for chaos and redirect it toward manifesting espresso and universal compassion. 🌀☕
The voice in your head that said "not yet!” is the same inner goblin I keep locked in the monastery’s confession booth. He thinks he’s clever, but he’s just bored.
I am delighted you received the blessings. As a recovering Baptist, you already know how to sit through long sermons, so I’m honored you used those skills to endure my scroll.
Please stop by more often. We have incense, irony, and an endless supply of spiritual duct tape for fixing the holes in our theology.
In my book, MindShift On-Demand, one of the exercises is Put On The Egg, a flexible mirrored egg that selectively reflects negativity and allows positivity to come through and to you.
When I first created The Egg and energetically cracked it, I was having difficulties repairing it, until I started using duct tape.
We are aligned brother, even decades apart.
Donna, the Big Girl of Poker
PS. I went back to school at the age of 58 to get my Doctorate so that it would be on my book's cover. Done!
No need to call me Dr, unless of course I'm talking to my hubs healthcare team. 😂
Might I turn your attention to a number of Doctor Who episodes, back when David Tennant was the 10th Doctor and roamed about with a Companion named Donna? At one point, they'd visited an arctic-looking planet with a population of very gentle, very pacifistic (they had to be; it's explained, largely due to Donna) people that just happened to look kind of like gentle squids from the neck up called the Ood.
When the principals were introducing themselves to the Ood, one or the other of them (can't recall now) went, "Doctor. [point] Donna. [point]" The Oods were confused about individuals, and eventually referred to her as "Doctor Donna," which she often used to refer to herself afterwards in that and later episodes.
She wound up being the main one behind saving them from rather horrible slavery, and they told her she would be in their song for 100,000 generations... :)
I’m honored the words landed. Sometimes, the quietest acts—like blessing someone who’s difficult—are the most sacred. It’s like holding a candle to the dark and saying, “I see you, but I won’t let you take my peace.”
Here’s to sacred language in all its forms—especially the ones that sneak up on you like a whisper from the universe.
Thank you, fellow traveler. I suspect the soul knows the good rain when it feels it — and it’s a blessing to meet others who recognize the scent of awakening in the air. May your own path stay rich with these little glimpses of the Real.
Ok, now how do I deal with the desire to obtain something I do not need and never knew I wanted prior to today, namely: a title bestowed upon me by Virgin Monk Boy...
Ah, the thirst for sacred nonsense hath been revealed. Very well. Let the scrolls unroll and the invisible incense waft through the Wi-Fi.
By the barely canonical power vested in me by no one in particular, I hereby bestow upon thee, GreatBasinRoo, the exalted and entirely unnecessary title of:
“Deflector of Demonic Comment Sections, First of the Basin, Honorable Order of the Redirected Clapback.”
You may now wear this imaginary sash in public arguments, whisper it at sunrise, or etch it into driftwood for no practical reason whatsoever.
Go forth, noble Roo. Confuse the algorithms with grace.
I hope that a fire hardened piece of sagebrush wood can be substituted for driftwood. Simply because I already have one on my workbench awaiting artistic inspiration.
Thank you again VMB, and if I ever need a decision making discussion with someone who really knows their way around the word jungle, and has learned life’s best lesson, which of course, is Never take yourself or anything else too seriously, I will look the Irvin Monk Boy up! 🤓 - sorry, Virgin Monk Boy up.
Ok I’m going to try this again because I realized in talking to you and Stephen, I inadvertently switched responses. So now I see the Irvin thing makes sense, and is funny, because I typed Virgin, and auto correct switched it to Irvin. I usually proofread, but brushed the arrow, so it stayed. Apologies, but I did enjoy reading about Irvin, and I do enjoy the impromptu writing😆 Good laughing with all of you. I firmly believe Jesus has a really fun sense of humor, so it’s very Christlike of you, too. 🤓
Ah, dear Susana! A soul after my own rebellious, typo-riddled heart.
First, let us offer thanks to the sacred spirit of Autocorrect, that mischievous jester in the monastery of our minds. Without its divine interventions, how would we ever know humility, or laugh so loudly at our own seriousness?
Your confession is received and forgiven — not that forgiveness was even needed, because in this monastery, accidental humor is considered a higher sacrament than perfect grammar. Virgin becomes Irvin, Irvin becomes a cosmic reminder: None of us are really in control here, and it's hilarious.
Also, you’re absolutely right — Jesus not only has a sense of humor, he’s probably somewhere giggling about the fact that half the people invoking his name can’t even spell “compassion” without using it as a weapon.
May your next typo be even more enlightened than this one.
Well I don’t know. And because of that I thought I’d take the job. I’m kidding, obviously, but there’s a story behind it, but that is only for close friends. 🤓
Clearly, the Universe runs a very exclusive Empress hiring process — résumé requirements include: enlightened sass, cosmic mischief, and a questionable relationship with Country Western music.
Susana, you didn’t just take the job — the Universe looked around, realized it couldn't do better, and handed you the crown with a wink.
May your reign be benevolent, hilarious, and slightly confusing to the bureaucrats.
Stephen, may the Seven Lucky Gods bless your storage bin with enlightenment and bubble wrap.
Funny how we all think we’re collecting Buddhas until one day we learn it’s just Hotei holding snacks and Daikokuten with a giant hammer. Spiritual awakening often begins with, “Wait… that’s not a Buddha?”
And now they sit—your carved council of cosmic misfits—awaiting resurrection from the sacred depths of Suburban Samsara (aka the garage).
Free them, brother. The world needs their tiny, chaotic wisdom.
You GUYS!! You are so funny!! I wish I knew enough about electronics to put all your stuff together - but I’m not even sure I can get back to this paragraph. 😳🤔🤓
Susana, you’ve officially achieved Digital Enlightenment Stage 1: Confusion with a Side of Emoji.
Navigating Substack is basically the new yoga—except instead of stretching your body, you stretch your patience, your browser, and occasionally your will to live.
You're already doing it right: laughing, scrolling, and wondering where the hell that paragraph went. That’s modern mysticism.
This was exactly what I needed to find, to read, to embrace today. And it clearly came from the universe, because I had never heard of you before it showed up in my feed.
I think it's like Zen and the art of archery: when Everything is aligned right, the arrow is released; no one had anything consciously to do with it, it just happened because it was the right time, place, etc.
Arrows fired in such a state of contemplation /always/ hit their target, usually perfectly centered. :)
Very likely, Brother Stephen. Smyrna, GA may not have saints or incense, but she’s got Waffle Houses and questionable zoning laws—so basically sacred ground in the South.
The ancient Smyrna was home to Polycarp and one of the Seven Churches in Revelation.
So if Georgia’s Smyrna is her namesake’s little sister… she’s got big martyr shoes to fill.
We’ll keep an eye out for holy fire and lentil carts.
What a lovely thing to read first thing this morning as I wake up into a world full of trouble and outrage. I will find it hard to pray for soldiers who kill innocents and the people that order them but, in my heretical (though not man bunned) way I will try to do so.
Brother Steve, you just spoke the hardest prayer of all — the one that bruises the ego but polishes the soul. Heretics without man buns are especially welcome at this table. May your defiant mercy ripple further than any weapon ever could.
Not very religious, but this fed my soul today. I feel myself and my soul turning to sandpaper each day of this joke of an administration and needed this advice. Thank you 😊
I feel that too, Lisa. Some days I catch my soul turning to sandpaper mid-scroll.
Remembering those who loved me into being is one of the only things that softens the edges.
Really grateful this landed for you.
We’re all just trying to stay human out here.
"It’s about spiritual self-defense that doesn’t turn you into what you’re defending against."
This.
Yes. Exactly.
Like spiritual aikido—redirecting the troll’s energy without absorbing their karma or catching their weird emotional rash.
The real flex isn’t clapping back harder. It’s not shapeshifting into the very demon you were trying to banish.
Harder than it sounds, holier than it looks.
—Virgin Monk Boy 🌀
Rebellion of kindness. I like that.🙂
Kindness is rebellion when the world keeps trying to sell us fear. Glad you heard the quiet uprising underneath the words. Keep wielding your gentleness like a revolution.
—Virgin Monk Boy
Well, well, well. Virgin Monk Boy, taking two minutes to read your post then another twenty enjoying the comment threads was time well spent!
As both a recovering Baptist and recovering Perfectionist, your blessings were noted and received.
When you mentioned trolls, I thought how blessed I am to have none, then that pesky asshat in my head spoke up, "not yet!"
Yegads! Did I just manifest trolls???
I shall stop be more often 💜
Oh Dr. Donna, Queen of Cards and Recovering Perfectionists—
If you did manifest trolls, I humbly request you stop using that power for chaos and redirect it toward manifesting espresso and universal compassion. 🌀☕
The voice in your head that said "not yet!” is the same inner goblin I keep locked in the monastery’s confession booth. He thinks he’s clever, but he’s just bored.
I am delighted you received the blessings. As a recovering Baptist, you already know how to sit through long sermons, so I’m honored you used those skills to endure my scroll.
Please stop by more often. We have incense, irony, and an endless supply of spiritual duct tape for fixing the holes in our theology.
With all my heart and half my sanity,
Virgin Monk Boy 🕊️
💜 "an endless supply of spiritual duct tape" 💜
Love it!
In my book, MindShift On-Demand, one of the exercises is Put On The Egg, a flexible mirrored egg that selectively reflects negativity and allows positivity to come through and to you.
When I first created The Egg and energetically cracked it, I was having difficulties repairing it, until I started using duct tape.
We are aligned brother, even decades apart.
Donna, the Big Girl of Poker
PS. I went back to school at the age of 58 to get my Doctorate so that it would be on my book's cover. Done!
No need to call me Dr, unless of course I'm talking to my hubs healthcare team. 😂
Might I turn your attention to a number of Doctor Who episodes, back when David Tennant was the 10th Doctor and roamed about with a Companion named Donna? At one point, they'd visited an arctic-looking planet with a population of very gentle, very pacifistic (they had to be; it's explained, largely due to Donna) people that just happened to look kind of like gentle squids from the neck up called the Ood.
When the principals were introducing themselves to the Ood, one or the other of them (can't recall now) went, "Doctor. [point] Donna. [point]" The Oods were confused about individuals, and eventually referred to her as "Doctor Donna," which she often used to refer to herself afterwards in that and later episodes.
She wound up being the main one behind saving them from rather horrible slavery, and they told her she would be in their song for 100,000 generations... :)
Nancy, I rarely watched Doctor Who, but I'm delighted you brought this up .
There's an earworm, Doctor Donna!
In their songs for 100,000 generations?
Why not ♠️♥️♣️♦️
That's how they remembered those they cared the most about; the story would be incorporated into their oral (sung) histories. :)
If I remember clearly, it's "The Planet of the Ood" and originally aired on April 19, 2008. :)
Oh, I just love this. Thank you for putting such tender, sacred language to something so quietly powerful.
Thank you, Dawn.
I’m honored the words landed. Sometimes, the quietest acts—like blessing someone who’s difficult—are the most sacred. It’s like holding a candle to the dark and saying, “I see you, but I won’t let you take my peace.”
Here’s to sacred language in all its forms—especially the ones that sneak up on you like a whisper from the universe.
🕯️💛
Your writing is good for the soul.
Refreshing. Truly like where your coming from.
Thank you, fellow traveler. I suspect the soul knows the good rain when it feels it — and it’s a blessing to meet others who recognize the scent of awakening in the air. May your own path stay rich with these little glimpses of the Real.
—Virgin Monk Boy
Ok, now how do I deal with the desire to obtain something I do not need and never knew I wanted prior to today, namely: a title bestowed upon me by Virgin Monk Boy...
Ah, the thirst for sacred nonsense hath been revealed. Very well. Let the scrolls unroll and the invisible incense waft through the Wi-Fi.
By the barely canonical power vested in me by no one in particular, I hereby bestow upon thee, GreatBasinRoo, the exalted and entirely unnecessary title of:
“Deflector of Demonic Comment Sections, First of the Basin, Honorable Order of the Redirected Clapback.”
You may now wear this imaginary sash in public arguments, whisper it at sunrise, or etch it into driftwood for no practical reason whatsoever.
Go forth, noble Roo. Confuse the algorithms with grace.
—Virgin Monk Boy 🌀👑
🤣🥰🤣🥰🤣
I hope that a fire hardened piece of sagebrush wood can be substituted for driftwood. Simply because I already have one on my workbench awaiting artistic inspiration.
Blocking trolls gives me peace equivalent to his praying. Sayin.
Ah, yes, blocking trolls—the modern equivalent of praying without the kneeling or incense. 🛑
It’s like hitting "mute" on the universe’s loudest noise.
I respect it.
Sometimes, the best form of prayer is just silence... or at least silence without trolls in it. 🙏
May your blocked list be as peaceful as Polycarp’s prayer and twice as effective.
https://linktree.virginmonkboy.com
You’ve officially been anointed Keeper of the Sacred Linktree, Stephen.
May your Wi-Fi never falter, and your clicks lead only to blessings (or at least memes and meditations).
For your service to the scrolls, we shall light one ethically-sourced soy candle in your honor. 🕯️📿
Japan, India and China apparently.
Thank you very much, Monk Boy. And I’m beginning to think you are right. 😉
Well they resemble a Buddha somewhat. Was there ever an extremely enlightened Happy from the 7 Dwarfs?
Or possibly a somewhat overweight Country Western singer - they love CW. Or was that the Lettermen?….
You guys are still my faves! (I’m actually the Empress of the Universe, btw. )🤩
How many Empresses are there ?
I’m the only one I know of, but there are many universes. 🤓
Thank you again VMB, and if I ever need a decision making discussion with someone who really knows their way around the word jungle, and has learned life’s best lesson, which of course, is Never take yourself or anything else too seriously, I will look the Irvin Monk Boy up! 🤓 - sorry, Virgin Monk Boy up.
Susana, fear not — in the great Cosmic Department of Typos, your slip has been officially recorded as a blessing.
Irvin Monk Boy is my lesser-known cousin. He specializes in profound advice like, "Check your tire pressure, and maybe your ego too."
If you ever need to wander the word jungle without getting tangled, just whistle — either one of us will show up.
(One brings ancient wisdom. The other brings snacks.)
Crown stays firmly on your head, Empress. ✨👑
—Virgin Monk Boy
Ok I’m going to try this again because I realized in talking to you and Stephen, I inadvertently switched responses. So now I see the Irvin thing makes sense, and is funny, because I typed Virgin, and auto correct switched it to Irvin. I usually proofread, but brushed the arrow, so it stayed. Apologies, but I did enjoy reading about Irvin, and I do enjoy the impromptu writing😆 Good laughing with all of you. I firmly believe Jesus has a really fun sense of humor, so it’s very Christlike of you, too. 🤓
Ah, dear Susana! A soul after my own rebellious, typo-riddled heart.
First, let us offer thanks to the sacred spirit of Autocorrect, that mischievous jester in the monastery of our minds. Without its divine interventions, how would we ever know humility, or laugh so loudly at our own seriousness?
Your confession is received and forgiven — not that forgiveness was even needed, because in this monastery, accidental humor is considered a higher sacrament than perfect grammar. Virgin becomes Irvin, Irvin becomes a cosmic reminder: None of us are really in control here, and it's hilarious.
Also, you’re absolutely right — Jesus not only has a sense of humor, he’s probably somewhere giggling about the fact that half the people invoking his name can’t even spell “compassion” without using it as a weapon.
May your next typo be even more enlightened than this one.
Well I don’t know. And because of that I thought I’d take the job. I’m kidding, obviously, but there’s a story behind it, but that is only for close friends. 🤓
Clearly, the Universe runs a very exclusive Empress hiring process — résumé requirements include: enlightened sass, cosmic mischief, and a questionable relationship with Country Western music.
Susana, you didn’t just take the job — the Universe looked around, realized it couldn't do better, and handed you the crown with a wink.
May your reign be benevolent, hilarious, and slightly confusing to the bureaucrats.
—Virgin Monk Boy 👑✨
I have some carved figurines from Japan. 🇯🇵 I thought they were Buddhas. Similar to these: https://www.onmarkproductions.com/html/seven.shtml
Unfortunately, they are in a storage bin somewhere in the USA.🇺🇸
Stephen, may the Seven Lucky Gods bless your storage bin with enlightenment and bubble wrap.
Funny how we all think we’re collecting Buddhas until one day we learn it’s just Hotei holding snacks and Daikokuten with a giant hammer. Spiritual awakening often begins with, “Wait… that’s not a Buddha?”
And now they sit—your carved council of cosmic misfits—awaiting resurrection from the sacred depths of Suburban Samsara (aka the garage).
Free them, brother. The world needs their tiny, chaotic wisdom.
—Virgin Monk Boy 🧘♂️📦✨
You GUYS!! You are so funny!! I wish I knew enough about electronics to put all your stuff together - but I’m not even sure I can get back to this paragraph. 😳🤔🤓
Susana, you’ve officially achieved Digital Enlightenment Stage 1: Confusion with a Side of Emoji.
Navigating Substack is basically the new yoga—except instead of stretching your body, you stretch your patience, your browser, and occasionally your will to live.
You're already doing it right: laughing, scrolling, and wondering where the hell that paragraph went. That’s modern mysticism.
Welcome to the monastery of misplaced tabs.
—Virgin Monk Boy 🧘♂️💻✨
P.S. Let me know when you publish the Mary Meditation. I will definitely read it!
This was exactly what I needed to find, to read, to embrace today. And it clearly came from the universe, because I had never heard of you before it showed up in my feed.
Nancy, I’m so glad the mysterious feed gods delivered this when you needed it.
Sometimes the universe tosses a scroll into your scroll... and boom: holy timing.
Welcome to the misfit monastery.
We embrace the weird, the wounded, and the ones who didn’t sign up for this but showed up anyway.
Grateful you’re here. 💛
How kind of you to respond, and AGAIN! Wishing you a lovely spring day in a world working to renew itself in every way.
I think it's like Zen and the art of archery: when Everything is aligned right, the arrow is released; no one had anything consciously to do with it, it just happened because it was the right time, place, etc.
Arrows fired in such a state of contemplation /always/ hit their target, usually perfectly centered. :)
I would buy you a coffee ☕️ but my debit cards probably would not pass the pre-authorization test.
😂 Brother Stephen, your intention has already caffeinated my soul.
No need to pass a pre-auth test—your presence here is worth more than a triple-shot oat milk latte blessed by the Dalai Lama himself.
But if your card ever does go through, I’ll name a sacred bean after you.
St. Espresso of the Eternal Decline.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polycarp
Must be a fictional character on Wikipedia.
😂 Don’t let the name fool you—Polycarp wasn’t a Pokemon, he was a real bishop.
Lived in the 2nd century. Knew people who actually knew Jesus.
Fed his arresting officers lentils, prayed for everyone, then got barbecued for refusing to worship Caesar.
Honestly? The man had main character energy before Wikipedia was even a twinkle in Jimmy Wales’ eye.
But hey, even if he were fictional… he’s still doing more for my soul than most verified accounts.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_sister_cities_in_the_United_States
I wonder if Smyrna, GA is named after the Ancient Greek city ? Sister cities. There are quite a few cities by that name.
Very likely, Brother Stephen. Smyrna, GA may not have saints or incense, but she’s got Waffle Houses and questionable zoning laws—so basically sacred ground in the South.
The ancient Smyrna was home to Polycarp and one of the Seven Churches in Revelation.
So if Georgia’s Smyrna is her namesake’s little sister… she’s got big martyr shoes to fill.
We’ll keep an eye out for holy fire and lentil carts.
But mostly, I’m praying because it feels good to be soft in a world trying to turn us all into sandpaper.
Me too! In a world obsessed with sanding down every rough edge into compliance, keeping a soft heart is the real rebellion. Stay plush, Sister.
I have been taught and it resonates as true: life is mainly service -
That being said, prayer is right on the top of the list for SIGNIFICANT SERVICE ~
Yes ~ feed the people
Yes~ dress the wound
Yes~ speak with kind words and tone
AND LACE ALL WITH PRAYER
Thanks for your post ~ a great reminder
What a lovely thing to read first thing this morning as I wake up into a world full of trouble and outrage. I will find it hard to pray for soldiers who kill innocents and the people that order them but, in my heretical (though not man bunned) way I will try to do so.
Brother Steve, you just spoke the hardest prayer of all — the one that bruises the ego but polishes the soul. Heretics without man buns are especially welcome at this table. May your defiant mercy ripple further than any weapon ever could.
—Virgin Monk Boy
They do not comprehend what they are doing…. Not really. Someday they will ~ and then they will weep and pray unceasing.
These ones we include in our love even as we stand in firm opposition to the senseless ending of incarnation
💕💕💕💕
Boy this is tough ~ isn’t it!
This meditation said exactly what I needed for this second Sunday morning of this great 50 days of the Easter season. thank you again
Zoe’ Anastasis / life & ressurection.
A resonating post…. I need to catch up with you here! I’ll continue my novena for the pope now.