Quiet Reflections and Prayers
And so there was
a sacred reunification
with life.
Each moment became
a gentle reminder
of the subtle beauty
and grace
of being
in my heart
and in a healing world,
a point of reference
for which there was
no creatable experience
to match
and no words
to express
or explain.
Life became
a series of
small surrenders
to a gentler way
of being
in my heart
and in the world —
trusting in what appeared
and faded —
knowing both the space behind
and the unfolding story
at once
and having the courage
and inner strength
to hold it all.
For the times
when there are
no words
to express what is
in our hearts,
give us courage
to hold
the quiet spaces
in-between.
Amen
And so my heart
grew weary of the search
for some kind of
relief
from the story
being told on the surface
through the eyes
of the wounded places
in me.
And so its quiet,
wordless whispers
and its ability
to sink in a little deeper
became louder.
And my willingness
to listen
a little more intently
became my greatest strength.
For a while,
I searched for
a way out
of suffering.
And then,
by grace,
I learned
the way out
was always
straight through
and a little deeper
down.
Please
make this okay.
Thank you.
Amen
I found
my deepest comfort
in the sinking down
into the places
I had tried so hard
to heal.
I found peace
in the willingness
to look a little past
what was appearing
on the surface
and in the subtle shift
from the desire
to heal
into the desire to hold
with honor.
And so I found
the strongest medicine
for the emotional pain
of being separated
from that pure place
of calm and real connection
with ourselves
and each other,
where the line between
disappears
in the subtle
messages from my heart.
It was in the willingness
to stand still
for just a moment
when there was no time
to stand still,
to stop trying so hard
to be better,
to meet whatever appeared —
even if it was nothing
at all.
It was in the persistence
of holding my ground —
even if that very ground
seemed shakey
and dissolved
into the nothing.
It was here
that I found a peace
that never left.
At a certain point,
it became clear
that relief must come
at once,
in the form of
a respite,
an unspoken truce —
in the middle of
all that remained
unhealed
and unsettled.
And so I entered
the place beyond thought.
And though the energy
of what was held there
was often intense,
it was always tender
to sink a little
further in,
to be willing
to allow the uneasiness
to be there
and to subside,
to see this place
outside of me —
to be okay
no matter what.
Laurie's Notes 