Quiet Reflections and Prayers
At a certain point,
the only real option
was going to
the source —
risking it all
to find something
worth holding.
It meant looking
within
and finding
that one thing
I could say
was sacred,
that one thing
worth holding
if everything else
I thought I had
understood
turned out to be
untrue.
I had to know
if there was
hope for any of us.
I had to know if
there was something
to be found
in us
that was capable
of holding
anything pure
without messing it up.
And it turned out
there was.
There was something
quietly satisfying
in showing up
without a mask,
without the constant
narrating mind.
Perceiving became
observing
and honoring
from a little higher
place.
Actions happened
naturally.
But it was the
space,
both expanding
outward
and anchoring me
in that moment,
that pulled me
ever so gently
toward my next needed
step.
The healing happened
quietly,
behind the scenes.
It was in each
whispered prayer
and moment of
real connection.
It didn’t come
in fancy packages.
It found its way
gently.
And it never
left.
I found it wasn’t
so much that I was
broken.
It was that I felt
disconnected
from my own true
voice —
lost in an ocean
of thoughts
and shoulds.
But there was a subtler
knowing from a little
deeper place
that never gave up
hope.
There was something
beautiful
in allowing life
to fall
quiet for a moment —
allowing the surface
to not be
as my mind
would have it.
I understood
most deeply,
in the quiet times,
the value in following
my heart —
even if it whispered
subtly,
without words —
even if it was
my only connection
on earth —
even if it led
to just one meaningful
thought.
For the times
when the way seems
unclear,
I will be
in this world
in front of me
and in my own heart.
I will feel
a little more deeply
into this life.
And I will write
our way through.
I found it was
possible to find
our way back
to our hearts.
I found that,
for every single
thing I gave up
along the way,
for every broken dream
and every person
I couldn’t reach,
there was an expansion
of the tender space
I had come to know
as the source
of true peace,
connection,
and happiness.
In this
softened light
and standing firmly
in my heart,
I thought
just maybe being brave
meant stepping back
to peek behind
what seemed to be
so shattered.
Perhaps
we weren’t as broken,
good or bad
or disconnected
as our minds
had made us out
to be.
It happened subtly
at first.
Thoughts and ideas
and all those many
images and words
about how
we should be
and how
things had been
began to fade —
just enough
to let in
something unexpected —
an original thought,
a genuine expression,
a little breathing space —
a tender interaction
almost missed —
the serenity we felt
as we didn’t grasp.
Maybe it was us
who dared to
turn away
in search of
something real.
I found healing deeply
to be
the most beautiful thing.
Finding what was
at the core
led to a natural
sorting out.
An authentic
tenderness
for which I could
find no words
joined with the desire
to listen more deeply
to life
in order to keep trying.
And I couldn’t imagine
it any other way
Laurie's Notes 