As I looked back
on the long journey,
the thought came
that if I had to choose
a place to start again,
I would go back
to the first time
I was moved
my own heart —
when there was nothing
left to try
except to drop everything
and find out
what was left.
I would start again
— Laurie, What Now
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
The shifts toward greater alignment with my heart were painfully subtle at times, but I learned that movement is movement. I found any amount of flexibility in my mind and body could be held and carried into more movement and more gentle guiding of unaligned fragments of Self back to the center of my deepest heart — in each moment.
One day I got it that life isn’t supposed to get completely sorted out. I understood there is always a place of unsettledness. Who’s to say what and how much to sort through and surrender and how much to leave alone in the transformative state of raw tenderness?
I couldn’t help but look back on all the time and energy spent trying find someone or something to help me out of the mess in my head. I thought of all the countless dramas I had acted out in my life in hope of a solution to this unresolved trauma — my piece of the collective suffering.
Then I got it that at any point I could have seen that I was okay with where I was (because of course I was more okay than I knew). I could have identified with the healer in me, the totality of all of the parts of me that had struggled to find relief — not knowing they didn’t need to go it alone.
And so in that moment, I vowed to not waste one more bit of energy doing things that only tired me out, including all useless kinds of thinking. I vowed to keep my heart open to the quiet prayer within.
Sometimes enough is enough.
The silence of my true Self was always there. Even when the world around me and within became noisy and my body wasn’t still at all — the underlying silence never left.
The peace found in the space within my heart began to spill over — until the essence of every experience became a prayer.
No words were needed each time I found my way to the quiet prayer in my heart.
Words carried there faded with the light of the presence of my own healer Self. The urge to look outward for relief in times of challenge was replaced with the understanding beyond thought found within and reflected outward.
I found it was possible and simpler than I had imagined to soften my experience in my heart and in the world.
I began by taking the reigns of my own healing journey, while dropping the struggle at the same time. Help showed up as needed, but it was when I really began to live from my inner heart space that I began to experience tenderness.
I focused on being my inner healer and living out of a formless, creative space,. My inner experience immediately became a place of reprieve. After a while, I understood that trauma and past patterns could be held and transformed in a natural, organic way. I learned to trust my inner healer to show me just enough in each moment and to catch all the pieces of my heart each time I tossed them up or whenever life became too heavy.
A different quality of thought arose whenever I chose to return to the wordless prayer in my heart. I liked the natural quieting within that seemed to grow each time I returned to this wordless space.
Where there had been constant noise, there was a beautiful space of listening prayer.