Quiet Reflections and Prayers
What was most helpful on my journey was being in a safe, honoring space because I had lost my own sacred space. I searched out the strongest, most loving healers I could find. I felt the love that radiated from these people who had done their own inner explorations and who were able to be in this space with me. I listened to their words, not with my mind, but with my heart.
— Laurie, Heart Space
From within
this state of prayer,
I found my focus
softened —
as the details blurred
a little on the surface
of outer stories
and inner narrations.
Clarity, I found,
not in these things —
but a little deeper down.
I began to listen
to the silence
and to the music
of life —
of notes and pauses —
finding refuge in
the silent spaces
and comfort in
words that flowed out
if I was patient
to wait my turn —
holding and letting go
ever so lightly —
in-between.
Help us to navigate
during times of confusion —
to sift through
all that comes
to the surface.
Guide us to
safe places
when we feel
most lost.
Remind us of
the effortless,
quiet joy sensed
in the presence
of truth —
that we may
always find our way.
Amen
I wish to reflect
all that is soft,
to offer my love
to all that is not —
to remind us
of the sacredness
of the journey
and the beauty
in the transformation.
— Laurie, What’s Right Here
Having been touched
by the purity of Love
and untainted truth
at our core,
there is no going back.
Perhaps that is why
our minds fear
the touching.
Perhaps we are afraid
that something will
be lost.
But I assure you,
what is shown
in that moment
is more than enough
to account for
anything that could
ever be lost or gained.
And that moment is only
the first step.
Give us strength
to stand firm,
to reach for what is
most true,
to find security
not in the things
we have been shown
to grasp,
but in our deepest core —
returning to our
natural place —
trusting those who have
made the trip before us —
reaching for others’ hands —
reaching ahead and behind,
gathering more strength
so that we may do
what we came to do
and share what we came
to share
as healers of our
own hearts.
Amen
I began to listen
to life —
to show up
and listen
to what was around me,
perhaps as our ancestors
once listened —
before all the noise.
And so I began
to listen
a little more deeply —
not analyzing each sound,
but waiting for the music
to continue,
noticing my own part
within in it
and outside of it.
And I couldn’t imagine
it being any other way.
Words appear
out of the desire
to somehow reflect
the complete surrender
of trying
to express and comprehend
the unspoken connection
to the natural source
of peace
within my heart
and yours.
But my prayers have
no words.
