When I looked back, after a while, the story I had carried had faded. It was the subtler, sometimes painfully subtle, story beyond the surface that kept my attention. It was the faint memory of all the times I had managed to quiet my heart just enough to hear the quiet prayer spoken from my own heart somewhere long ago. It was each moment I allowed my heart to remain open, even though I was […]
I let go, trusting that wherever the pieces fall will be okay — possibly even more beautiful than if I had tried to fit them together on my own. — Laurie, What’s Right Here
And so I began to listen to the one continuous quiet prayer in my heart. And though it was painfully subtle at times. I came to know this quiet voice as my deepest connection and healing.
What Now became a choice in each moment, the courage to release everything held so carefully for so long — again and again. It was the conviction to stand firmly in a space of not knowing — the willingness to loosen my grip on life — the choice to wait for inspiration and higher thoughts.
I vowed to be still in my heart just long enough for words to form to comfort all that was unsettled in me. And then I found the comfort came before the words, in my willingness to be with all that is here — in the presence of my own soul.
May I be guided today by grace. May I have the patience to wait for higher thoughts. May I be moved by inspiration and love and creative flow — viewing each experience that crosses my path as an alternate route to tenderness. Amen
As I looked back on the long journey, the thought came that if I had to choose a place to start again, I would go back to the first time I was moved to trust my own heart — when there was nothing left to try except to drop everything and find out what was left. I would start again from there. — Laurie, What Now
After all of the holding and letting go, more than I ever thought possible, what is left is a silence, a reverence — a trace of lingering sadness, a treasured tenderness surrounded by the purest love. — Laurie, What’s Right Here
Sometimes prayers become wordless — when there are a million words in the heart, but not one to match the rawness of emotion felt. And so I offer my deepest silent prayer to the place of peace in us all in this moment and the next. And I honor our steps as we find our way. — Laurie, What Now
I wish to reflect all that is soft, to offer my love to all that is not — to remind us of the sacredness of the journey and the beauty in the transformation. — Laurie, What’s Right Here
