I found great strength
in the willingness
to show up —
to honor and see
a little past
what appeared
on the surface —
to hold a space
instead of trying
to fill it up.
Quiet Reflections and Prayers
I found great strength
in the willingness
to show up —
to honor and see
a little past
what appeared
on the surface —
to hold a space
instead of trying
to fill it up.
All of the little
parts of me
began to fade
just enough
to always be connected
with my whole Self.
But I continued on
with honor
and the quiet joy
and compassion
that came out of being whole
and also in pieces.
All of the parts
of me
I had held
for so long
began to fade
back into the silence
of my true Self.
Sometimes the contrast
was shocking.
But I never really longed
for the way it was
before.
One day there was
a sense of honor
for being alive
in that very moment,
however challenging
and seemingly imperfect
it was —
a different kind
of okay
that carried over
into everything that unfolded
from there.
The road back
to my heart
seemed winding
and difficult at times.
And there were times,
along the way,
when I knew
without doubt
that there was
a deeper story,
when I knew
that it was in fact
these moments of
of pure knowing,
often in the middle
of the most difficult
experiences,
that reflected the vastness
of the love we are
so clearly.
It was these moments
that outshined
and overflowed into
every other moment.
I found simplicity
and grace
from silence,
a quiet joy
connecting me
with just the right thought
in just the right moment
and back
to the silent knowing
beyond it.
I found there was
always space
within my heart.
And there was comfort
where words couldn’t go —
the silent places into which
they faded
and appeared again
in different forms
without ever losing
their true essence.
I began to sense
a deeper story
than what could be known
on the surface.
And I found I had
a deep respect
for all of the pieces
I couldn’t quite
fit together
and for life itself
that I wouldn’t trade
to have walked
an easier path.
And so my heart
was drawn
to all that was
simple and pure.
And my mind was clear
and still —
no longer desiring
to push or impose —
in sweet surrender
to my heart.
I began to take myself
a little less seriously.
And I laughed a little
each time I remembered
all of the time spent
finding my true voice
and then desiring only
to reflect
this wordless place
I had tried so hard
to leave.