Most of us are very good at keeping things moving.
We go from one task to the next, manage our responsibilities, show up for the people who need us. We function. But underneath that forward motion, feelings are constantly surfacing — worry, overwhelm, disconnection, fear, anger — and most of the time, we learn to push them aside. We tell ourselves we’ll deal with them later. Later rarely comes.
What if, instead of censoring those feelings, we gave them a voice? What if the parts of us we’ve been ignoring are actually carrying important information — information we need in order to live more fully, more honestly, and more at peace?
Think about what happens when you sit down to pray or meditate, and a voice inside says, “I don’t really believe this works. I don’t trust that anyone is listening.” Most of us quickly push that voice away. We feel guilty for having it. But what if you let it speak?
That voice is a part of you. And it has something to teach you. When you listen to it — with the same love and patience a mother brings to a child — you learn about where your trust was broken, what your spirit is longing to heal. You can speak to that part of yourself: “I understand. I’m here. I’m learning how to be there for you.”
Or perhaps there’s a part of you that is quietly furious — because you didn’t stand up for yourself at work, or because you’ve been putting everyone else’s needs before your own for so long you’ve forgotten what yours even are. That anger isn’t a problem. It’s a signal. When you let it speak, when you truly listen, it points you toward what needs to change.
I think of this as our inner family. Most of us live in homes within our minds and hearts where certain rooms have been shut for years — the room where the frightened child lives, the room where the discouraged dreamer sits, the room where the part of us that feels unworthy has been quietly waiting. We need to open those doors. Let the light in. Let those parts speak.
In order to build a trusting relationship with the God in you, you have to first build a trusting relationship with yourself — with all of yourself. The child, the adult, the scaredy-cat, the ego, the one who doubts, the one who longs for more. If we can start a conversation among all these parts without judging any of them, we stop withholding energy from ourselves. We become more whole.
This takes courage. When your guard comes down and you reach the raw, undefended parts of yourself, it can feel deeply vulnerable. The ego resists this — it likes to feel in control, to pretend it has everything figured out. But life has a way of dismantling that pretense. Crisis, change, loss — these things strip away the false sense of control and invite us, sometimes force us, into a deeper honesty with ourselves.
Prayer creates the space for that honesty. In prayer, we can open our hearts to the well of love and compassion within us and give ourselves permission to be fully, beautifully human.
Three Questions to Ask Yourself Each Night
I keep a journal by my bedside, and each night before sleep, I answer three questions. They have become one of the most grounding practices of my life.
1. What worked today?
Sometimes the answers are small — I took a walk this morning, I called a friend who needed me, I put my phone down an hour before bed. Sometimes they’re bigger. Either way, this question trains us to notice what is actually going right, even on the hard days.
2. What would I like more of in my life?
This is the invitation to hear the parts of yourself that often go unspoken. Maybe you’re yearning for more playfulness, more rest, more honest connection. Maybe there’s something buried that has been waiting a long time to be heard. Listen to it the way a loving mother listens to a child — without judgment, without rushing it along.
3. What does the spirit have to say to me?
On this one, I pause. I get quiet. I stop trying to think and start to listen. The answer comes not from my head but from somewhere deeper — the wise, steady voice that is always there when I stop drowning it out with noise.
The spirit doesn’t judge the parts of us that are resentful, discouraged, afraid, or in doubt. On the contrary — those are exactly the parts the spirit wants to meet and support. That is the beauty of prayer. It doesn’t ask us to show up polished. It asks us to show up honestly.
When you give all parts of yourself a voice, something opens. You become more expansive. More integrated. More at home in yourself. And from that place of inner alignment, you find you have so much more to offer — to your relationships, your work, and the world.
The Prayer
This prayer is for anyone ready to open the closed rooms within — and meet themselves there with love.
Dear Beloved,
I ask for the light to protect me, fill me, and surround me. I ask that the parts of me that have felt shut down, ignored, and withdrawn be given a voice. I ask for the willingness to give myself permission to listen to them.
I open up to all parts of myself and ask for the courage to look at all of myself without judgment. If there are parts that feel defeated, unworthy, betrayed, or pushed aside, I ask that the light shine on those parts so that they can open up and speak with me and through me, and give me information about what they want more of. Is it the strength and confidence to ask for what I want? Is it expression and creativity? Is it a willingness to ask for and receive help from others in my difficult times? Is it to know that I can have more joy in my life? Is it to better listen to and take care of myself?
I ask to bridge the gap between my human self and my wise self, so that I feel more whole, more integrated, and more comfortable in my vulnerability.
I want to get to know me — not who I think I am or should be, but who I really am in the deepest parts of myself. I allow my heart to open to all parts of myself so that I may know that I deserve to be unconditionally loved. In that, I receive the freedom and the ease that comes from knowing that all of me is worthy of expression and of love. I give up feeling like the victim and rise to feel like a warrior.
So be it.
You don’t have to have it all together to begin this practice. You just have to be willing to listen — to the quiet voices, the uncomfortable ones, the ones you’ve been shushing for years.
They are not your enemies. They are parts of you that have been waiting, patiently, for you to come home to yourself. Open the door. Let the light in. All of you deserves to be heard.
Agapi Stassinopoulos is a best-selling author and speaker. This post is adapted from Chapter 8 of her book Speaking with Spirit: 52 Prayers to Guide, Inspire, and Uplift You (Harmony Books).