Quiet Reflections and Prayers
I found I had the power
to stand in my heart
no matter what.
And though it saddened me
to remember all the times
I walked a darker path,
I knew the sacredness
of the journey back
and the power in choosing
my thoughts a little more
carefully in each moment
from there.
For the parts
of us
that grieve
for all that
can’t be expressed
in words,
for the frustration
that comes
when words are
attempted
and seen to be
insufficient,
I offer my deepest
silent prayer.
Know that we don’t
grieve alone —
even when it seems
we are on opposing sides
on the surface.
Somewhere, below
the surface stories
and very real
pain,
we know we are
connected.
And we know
there is a part
of us that
is healed.
May it continue
to whisper
as we find courage
to hold our grief
and our healing
together.
Amen
I learned to move
in compassion.
I chose to notice
subtle insights
and find clarity.
I chose to know
myself more deeply
as both body
and spirit,
in this body for
a purpose I didn’t always
understand.
I chose to experience
negative emotions
and challenges
in new ways
and allow myself to be
drawn to new experiences
I didn’t know existed.
These new experiences
showed themselves
to me
as one continuous
quiet prayer.
And so I honored
this journey
in myself and
others.
In this moment,
I declare
a truce,
a respite —
a little space
for healing —
here,
in the stillness
of my heart.
— from earlier notes
Let our minds
be quieted,
just enough —
that we may hear
and follow
the quiet prayer
of our hearts.
Amen
Let us be quieted
just enough —
that we may
hear our own
silent prayers.
And when we
feel small,
quiet our hearts
just a little more.
Amen
I found
the journey
of life
included some things
that were difficult
to look at
at first.
There were certain thoughts
and memories
and wounds
and moments of
disbelief.
There were shadows.
And there was
the desire to
believe that I could
somehow make sense
of all of it
through endless
sorting on the surface.
But peace came
when I had
exhausted every attempt
to sort life out
on the surface.
Eventually I had to
trust in my own
unique process
of feeling
into my heart
and see from a wider view —
just below the surface.
My heart longed
to live freely —
to show up
without introduction —
to listen
and feel
and play
and love.
It taught me
how to be
a part of a sacred
journey
and reflect
an invisible art.
Life became
the willingness
to notice
my own soul voice
behind everything,
to allow myself
to be connected
with my heart —
and to reflect
a little more
love.
At a certain point,
I became willing
to stand my ground
as healer
of my own heart —
not as fractured
pieces,
but as the most whole
part of me —
the only one
who could hold
space for healing
for the rest.
Laurie's Notes 