Quiet Reflections and Prayers
It took a strong kind
of spirit,
brave souls who had prepared
to hold love and shine light
above all else —
daring to stand apart from the crowd
though their hearts ached —
honoring and assisting the difficult task
of evolution —
the delicate transformation
into tenderness.
There came a time
when it didn’t matter
how many lies were spoken
or if they were repeated
by every single person around me.
My love of truth had grown so great
and my determination to
move in the direction of truth
and to never again be disconnected
from my own true Self had become
just what I do.
I had learned to respond to my own
inner reality and to create
from there.
Of course the darkness was
difficult to walk through.
And I admit I wasn’t always graceful.
But I reminded myself in the darkest
of times that without fail, every single time
I faced the path ahead and walked it
all the way,
all I remembered was the incredible light
and magic I had experienced.
It was disheartening to surrender
to the idea that love of truth
and the desire to see and protect
one’s own true spirit
and that within others had gotten a bit
scrambled.
Sometimes sacred things got mixed up
on the road to tenderness.
Sometimes darkness found its way in
where there was wounding,
And it took a while to let go of the idea
that moving further away from
true unity based on united sovereign souls
could ever lead anywhere good.
No, in the end, darkness and separation
had to be seen for what it was–
looked straight in the face
and released.
Parts of Self desperately hated,
disconnected,
and previously entwined with the dark
had to be embraced.
I found reprieve in
the remembrance of the quiet peace
ever present within my deepest heart.
I found a willingness to listen
a little deeper —
to observe a little longer —
to be carried and
set back down gently
in the present moment
where there was tenderness.
After a while, it was difficult
to see how I could have moved
through life in any other way.
I intuitively understood
that if I was going to reconnect
with my heart,
I would need to risk setting down
old ways of coping
and moving through
a whole lot of fears.
What I had found was subtle
and tender, and i just knew
if I was to return to any form
of numbing or distraction,
I would miss something I wasn’t
willing to let go of again.
I had come too far.
And so the decision was made,
and that first step into
what I later called a prayer break
was taken.
The respite found immediately
was a vast contrast
to all of the striving and searching
and disconnect I had experienced.
I never turned back.
After a while my life existed within
an expanded prayer break,
a gentle reconnection
with a deeper part of me
and a return to the natural flow
of life, which I experienced as
a continuous transformation into
tenderness.
There was a settling in
to the rhythm of the once faint
quiet prayer in my heart.
Of course it was extremely difficult
to stay centered
and often impossible to be as
graceful on the surface
as the prayer in my heart.
But I did my best to release
my hold on how I thought
this life should unfold,
understanding that contrast was
in fact part of the game.
And I allowed myself to be
carried through contrast and
challenges —
back into tenderness.
I began to practice allowing.
It no longer occured to me
to try to force anything.
Instead I began to find
quiet joy in being
the space
for pieces come together
and in being in
a world in constant transition
into tenderness.
And so I learned
to soothe frightened parts
of me
through my willingness
to face each moment
as it came,
knowing at any point
I could stop and gather words
out of emptiness
to soothe what couldn’t be
reached in any other way.
After a little while,
I caught on that this
human experience was in fact
a sacred journey.
And so I began to take notes —
connecting the person
to a more expanded,
formless self —
comforting and guiding —
lighting my path
as it unfolded —
navigating through contrast —
following what felt most true —
listening and feeling my way
into my deepest heart.
I found instant reprieve
in the exact moment
I returned my focus
to the space within my heart.
I learned it was enough
to focus on what was appearing
right in front of me,
allowing all that was past
to be released.
I learned to sense where
life was supporting me to be
in each moment
with a little more grace
and trust.
Laurie's Notes 