Quiet Reflections and Prayers
Sometimes it’s nice
to show up
as I am —
to meet others
as they are —
to toss my thoughts
and wait
for them to come
back down
a little more gently —
to hold a space
for just the kind
of love
that doesn’t need
a continuous narration
or specific way
to be.
At times,
the surface life
appeared unsettled.
Often there was
much to sort through.
But if I dared to sink
just a little below,
thoughts began to appear
a little slower —
offering themselves
as quiet prayers
and fading gracefully
back into stillness —
where whatever reappeared
was always just enough.
I found a certain joy
in listening
to life —
holding moments
and thoughts
and letting go —
listening without needing
to cling
or becoming stale —
joining the continuous
motion of life —
noticing the quiet stillness
in all if it.
Writing calms me
like medicine.
It quiets me.
I don’t try to understand
with my mind.
I just let it flow out
and sink in
to my heart.
Sometimes one word
shows up in a piece
and reaches where I couldn’t
reach in other ways.
Maybe it is that
I have to become
so still inside
to listen
with my whole being.
Maybe it is this listening
that calms the little parts
of me so profoundly.
— Laurie, Heart Space
And so the words
written carefully
on my heart
began to reflect
the gentle way
I had taken in
subtle messages
from inner and outer
experiences —
reflecting the soft,
repetitive motion
of holding and letting go,
listening and settling —
the one thing
strong enough
to heal my own heart —
this gentle way —
this most natural movement
of life.
There was less
of a need
to form solid conclusions
and interpret meaning
in each experience.
Instead, there was
a sense of being
part of life,
naturally contributing
my part —
quieting my own heart
a little more with
each unnarrated moment
and carrying on.
It became increasingly helpful
to meet life
from a gentler place.
And so I held
my ground within
my heart —
remembering how
I had so delicately
held and let go
of all that crossed
my path
as I found my way
to this position —
letting go of all
I couldn’t sort out
all at once —
noticing as
pieces came together —
a little at a time —
naturally —
without my
over-thinking
and doing.
And with this same
natural motion,
I continued on.
I hold this space
in honor
of all that is
being worked out,
softened,
and transformed
by this mysterious love
of which we are a part.
Amen
I found there were
places along the
winding path
of my heart
that remained
unsorted.
It was these unresolved
pieces of my own story
that I came to honor
as doorways
into the mysterious —
the place where words
couldn’t go
and only the purest love
was felt
in their place.
There was a quieting,
a gentle shift
from pure survival
to an aliveness
that flowed out of
the willingness to embrace
carefully hidden emotion
in a way that was
both safe
and strong enough
to hold
the most painful experiences —
transforming them,
through this holding,
into something beautiful.
Laurie's Notes 