Prathima's Miles & Milestones

Finding strength in surrender and clarity in stillness

As athletes, we always swear by our practice days. It is what we invest our everyday that determines the race day. Moreover, one bad race doesn’t define us. We say “Practice is our prayer”. Prayer taught me patience in a world that runs on speed. There’s something profoundly human about prayer — not as a ritual, but as a whisper between you and the unknown. A personal journey through doubt, devotion, and quiet miracles. It’s the moment you unclench your heart, when words fail but hope doesn’t.

For some, prayer happens on their knees. For others, it’s in the quiet moments before sleep, or while watching the sunrise with coffee in hand. It can also be playful when you are in between practice sessions on winter mornings, and you play hide-and-seek or peek-a-boo with the sun. Yet, we say a little prayer and hope my dreams will take me there. And, I seem to be singing Westlife — My Love (Lyrics) here.

This isn’t about religion as much as it’s about faith — that invisible thread connecting you to something greater, even when you can’t see it. It is a quiet reminder that not everything powerful needs to be seen. Because sometimes, belief is the bravest thing we do. Hope remains alive, no matter what the results are, or how vulnerable we become at times, and despite expecting a particular outcome from life after all the hard and smart work we do daily.

Faith doesn’t promise that life will always be kind. It simply reminds us that we are not alone in the unkind moments. I’ve come to see prayer as less about asking, and more about aligning — aligning my fears with courage, my impatience with peace, my plans with purpose. It’s not about bending life to your will, but about opening your will to life. When things don’t go right, we say ‘go left’ just for fun and to lighten the mood after a disappointment. We hope someday our prayers are answered by the Universe or God Almighty, or the supreme being above us all.

And somehow, in the middle of unanswered questions, you start to notice small miracles — not grand gestures or blazing signs, but in the stillness of ordinary moments:
— A stranger’s kindness,
— A moment of calm after tears, or
— A door that closes, only to guide you toward another.

Maybe prayer isn’t always about getting answers, but about finding peace in the waiting. Sometimes, the most profound act of faith is to let go — to trust that what’s meant for you will find you, in its own time and quiet way. And in that stillness, we learn that surrender isn’t giving up — it’s opening up.

We don’t have to have it all figured out. Maybe the waiting, the wondering, and the surrendering are all part of the prayer itself — a quiet reminder that good things take time, and better things arrive when we stop trying to control them.

So tonight, whatever your belief or background is — say your prayer. Or sit in silence and let your heart speak. Because somewhere in that stillness, the universe listens and answers. If we all had answers, then there’d be no fun in life. Life wouldn’t be magical. Let’s live in the present and be grateful for this day.

Hi, I’m Prathima 😊, Product builder by profession, seeker by soul — exploring prayer, purpose, and the poetry of everyday life. I write about mindful living, running🏃‍♀️, cooking🍳, and turning everyday routines into moments of happiness ✨.

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