Tenderness

Against All Odds

Laurie's Notes

There were moments of deeply felt grief, having endured a long, intense spiritual and human journey. There were regrets and lingering physical scars and emotional wounds.  And there was tenderness, something that was understood deep down to somehow be the whole point.

There was the understanding, in the brief moments of outer calm, that I had given up many things on this journey — but not this. I wouldn’t have been able to endure without this tenderness of spirit.

I wouldn’t have been able to be present in a world of challenges without having broken apart and come back together. I wouldn’t have been able to look at overwhelming challenges and destruction without knowing what is possible. I had been to the edge of destruction in my own way and had, against all odds, transformed — not with my own limited human self alone, but in cooperation with something much bigger that I didn’t quite understand.

At a certain point, it became clear that standing on the edge of destruction was only one way this thing could go. It was possible to be moved also by respect and compassion for having made it so far and the passion to prevent future suffering wherever I could. It was possible to nurture and allow the smallest spark of pure love to ignite.

Unsorted

Unfilled

Laurie's Notes

All things were returned to their rightful place. Parts of self matured naturally with the unconditional presence held by those who had endured brokenness and the intimate process of putting the pieces back — having taken care to leave a tender space unfilled where it would have been easier to attempt to fill it up. What was once desperate attempts at survival became wisdom and loving self-restraint.

Quieting, Unsorted

A Quiet Prayer

Laurie's Notes

For a time,

everything reflected back

a sense of disconnection,

but there was a faded memory

of a deeper truth

just beneath the surface —

a quiet prayer that,

when held just lightly enough,

began the gentle task

of transformation.

Life was returned

to the sacred prayer

it was meant to be.

All things were held safely

within this transformation

into tenderness.

Quieting, Unsorted

A New Kind of Thought

Laurie's Notes

Sometimes there were no words. And then somehow, mysteriously, worlds began to well up from somewhere beyond. A new kind of thought from a gentler place began to transform all that seemed unreachable. Gentle prayers began to take form out of the resolve to surrender everything  — just to remember this place for a moment.

There came a desire to remain in this place within — just a little longer — no matter what appeared on the surface or how big the challenges seemed.

Tenderness

Something Beautiful

Laurie's Notes

Transformation into tenderness meant being okay when life wasn’t all sorted out. It meant holding a space for all the words that, for whatever reason, just wouldn’t ever be spoken. It meant detaching with love and acceptance from all that had been left in the past, often without resolution — not knowing what would become of the tender ache left in its place — trusting it would become something beautiful.

Unsorted

Transformation into Tenderness

Laurie's Notes

I found it worked best

to connect with parts of me

that needed attention.

I learned I could hold these parts

without needing them to change.

The first time I noticed I could, in fact,

affect my experience in the world

in a gentle way —

without analyzing or retraumatizing —

without a desperate search,

I had no more need for

less effective ways of coping

that had served to carry me

to a safer place.

Whatever appeared as a reflection

to this safe place within

would be enough.

And when the the outer experience

didn’t match what was felt in my heart,

I held my ground.

It wasn’t always comfortable,

but it was a continuous,

delicate and sacred transformation

into tenderness.