St. John of the Ladder also advises us to read the prayer we have chosen slowly, evenly, slowly enough to enclose our attention in words, but not so slowly that this exercise becomes boring; and to do this without trying to experience any feelings, because our goal is a relationship with God: when we come to God, we should never try to squeeze any emotions out of our hearts; prayer is a statement, everything else depends on God.

With this method of teaching, prayer is given a certain time, and if the prayer is attentive, then the duration of this time does not matter. If you were to read three pages of a prayer rule, and half an hour later you saw that you were still reading the first twelve words, it would certainly make you feel discouraged; Therefore, it is best to have a certain time and stick to it.

St. John of the Ladder educated dozens of monks only by this simple method: a strictly defined time and merciless attention – nothing more.

The outward beauty of the divine services should not carry us away to the point of forgetting that in Orthodoxy sobriety is a very essential property of prayer. In "Frank Tales of a Pilgrim" the village priest gives a very important piece of advice about prayer: if you want your prayer to be pure, correct and joyful, choose some short prayer consisting of not a few, but powerful words, and repeat it often, over a long period of time. Then you will find consolation in prayer. The same idea can be found in the "Letters of Brother Lawrence": "I do not advise you to talk too much in prayer, since verbosity and long speeches often lead to absent-mindedness"[4].

Father John of Kronstadt was asked how priests, despite all their experience, are absent-minded and allow extraneous thoughts even during the celebration of the Liturgy. The answer was: "Because of our lack of faith." We do not have enough faith if we understand faith with the Apostle Paul as the assurance of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1). But it would be a mistake to think that all distracting thoughts come from our own depths: it is our incessant inner preoccupation that comes to the surface, the very thoughts that usually fill our lives; And the only way to finally get rid of unworthy thoughts is to radically change our entire attitude to life. And again, as Brother Lawrence writes in his eighth letter, "the only way to easily gather one's mind during prayer and keep it more calm is not to allow it to wander at other times; you must strictly keep it in the presence of God, and being accustomed to think of God often, you will find it easy to keep your mind calm during prayer, or at least to bring it back from its wanderings."

As long as we are deeply affected by all the trivialities of everyday life, we will not be able to pray with all our hearts; they will always color the flow of our thoughts. The same must be said of our daily relationships with human beings: these relationships should not consist of mere idle chatter, but should be based on what is essential in each of us, otherwise we may not be able to rise to another level when we turn to God. We must eradicate all that is insignificant and trivial in ourselves and in our relationships with people, and concentrate on what we can take with us into eternity.

It is impossible to become a different person from the moment we start praying. But by carefully observing your thoughts, you can gradually learn to discern their value. During prayer, those thoughts in which we are immersed in our daily life irresistibly break through. Prayer, on the other hand, changes and enriches our daily lives, becoming the basis for a new and authentic relationship with God and the people around us.

In our struggle for prayer, emotions have little to do with the matter: we must bring to God a complete, firm determination to be faithful to Him and an aspiration for God to live in us. We must remember that the fruits of prayer are not this or that emotional state, but a profound change in our entire being. Our goal is to become able to stand before God, to focus on His presence, turning all our needs to Him, and to receive from Him strength, strength so that God's will may be fulfilled in us. The fulfillment of God's will in us is the only goal of prayer, as well as the criterion of true prayer. It is not the mystical feelings that we may experience, nor the emotional experiences, that constitute the dignity of prayer. St. Theophan the Recluse says: "Do you ask yourself, did I pray well today?" Do not try to find out how deep your feelings have been or how deep you have become in your understanding of things divine. Ask yourself, "Am I doing God's will better than I used to?" And if you can answer yes, the prayer has borne fruit, if not, it has not borne fruit, no matter how much understanding and feeling you have gained from the time you have spent in the presence of God.

Concentration, whether in contemplation of God or in prayer, can be achieved only by an effort of will. Our spiritual life rests on our faith and determination, and every unforeseen joy is a gift from God. When St. Seraphim of Sarov was asked why some people remain sinners and never reform, while others become saints and live in God, he answered: it is all about determination.

Our actions must be determined by an act of will, which usually turns out to be the opposite of what we seek; This will, based on our faith, constantly clashes with our other power, the instinctive one. We have two wills: one is conscious, which we possess to a greater or lesser extent, which consists in the ability to force ourselves to act in accordance with our convictions; the second is something quite different in us, these are the inclinations, demands, and passionate desires of our whole being, very often contrary to the first will. The Apostle Paul speaks of two laws opposing each other (Romans 7:23). He speaks of the old and new Adam in us, who are at war with each other. We know that one must die in order for the other to live, and we must understand that our spiritual life, the life of our entire human being, will not be complete until these two wills agree with each other. It is not enough to strive for the victory of good will over evil; the evil will, that is, the inclinations of our fallen nature, must be completely, albeit gradually, transformed into an aspiration, an attraction to God, a thirst for God. It's a tough fight, but it's worth it.

The spiritual life, the Christian life, is not about developing a strong will that can compel us to do what we don't want to do. In a sense, of course, learning to do the right thing when we feel like doing things differently is an achievement, but it's still a small one. A mature spiritual life is a life when our conscious will is in harmony with the words of God, when with the help of God's grace it has transformed and changed our nature so profoundly that our entire human being has become one will. We must begin with subordinating and bending our will to obey the commandments of Christ, accepting them objectively and fulfilling them with absolute precision, even when they differ from what we know about life. By an act of faith, against all evidence, we must agree that Christ is right. Experience teaches us that some things do not seem to happen as they ought to happen according to the Gospel; but God says that it is so, so it must be so. It should also be remembered that, while fulfilling God's will in such an objective sense, we should not do it "by trying," intending to test it in order to see what happens, because then nothing works. Experience shows that when we get slapped in the face, we want revenge; Christ says, "Turn the other cheek." And when we finally decide to turn the other cheek, we really expect to conquer the enemy and arouse his admiration. But if, instead, we get a new slap in the face, we are usually very surprised or indignant, as if God has involved us in a completely impossible task.

We must outgrow this attitude, be ready to do God's will and pay for it in full. If we are not willing to pay, we are only wasting time. Then we need to take the next step and understand that it is not enough to do yet, because we must not force ourselves into Christianity by drill, but must become Christians; in the process of doing God's will, we must learn to understand God's intentions. Christ revealed His intentions to us, and it is no accident that in the Gospel of John He no longer calls us slaves, but friends, because a servant does not know the intentions of his master, but He has told us everything (John 15:15). In fulfilling the will of God, we must learn to understand what this fulfillment means, so that in our thoughts and will, in all our attitude to life, we may become co-workers with Christ (1 Corinthians 3:9). And in such oneness of mind with Him, we will gradually become inwardly what we try to be outwardly.

We see that we cannot deeply partake of the life of God unless we change radically. It is therefore necessary to go to God in order for Him to transform and change us, and that is why we must first of all ask for conversion. Conversion (Latin conversio) means a turn, a change of mind. The Greek word metanoia means a change of mind. Conversion in the sense of conversio means that instead of wasting our lives looking in all directions, we will stick to one single direction. It means turning away from many things that were valuable to us only because they were pleasant or useful to us. Conversion manifests itself first of all in a change in our scale of values: when God is at the center of everything, everything else takes its place in new places, receives a new depth. Everything that is God's, everything that belongs to Him, is positive and real. Everything outside of Him has no value or meaning. But a mere change in one's view of things cannot yet be called conversion. We can change our views and not go any further; this must necessarily be followed by an act of will, and if our will does not move and change its direction by turning to God, then there is no conversion; without this, there is only an incipient but dormant and inactive change in us. Obviously, it is not enough to look in the right direction and not move. Remorse should not be mistaken for repentance; Remorse is not about feeling "terrible regret" for wrong things in the past: it is an active, positive state of going in the right direction. This is very clearly shown in the parable of the two sons (Matt. 21:28), whom the father sent to work in his vineyard. One said "I'm coming" and didn't go. The other replied "I will not go", but then he was ashamed and went to work. It was genuine repentance, and we should never delude ourselves into imagining that regretting our past is an act of repentance. Of course, this is part of it, but repentance remains lifeless and fruitless until it leads us to fulfill the will of the Father. We tend to think that it must be reduced to beautiful feelings, and very often we are satisfied with emotions instead of a genuine, deep inner change.

How often, having offended someone and realizing that we were wrong, we go to the offended person and talk about our remorse, and after excited explanations, tears, forgiveness and touching words, we leave with the feeling that we have done everything possible. We cried together, we reconciled, and now everything is fine. But this is by no means true. We simply enjoyed our virtues, and another person, perhaps kind-hearted and easily moved, responded to our emotional scene. This is anything but conversion. No one asks us to shed tears and seek a touching encounter with the victim of our cruelty, even if that sacrifice is God. Something completely different is expected of us: that, having realized our wrongness, we correct it.