There were times when the stories around me were complex. I knew the only hope was a miracle — often more than one. And so I vowed to clear my own mind and heart and become one with the quiet prayer that had carried me that far.
I vowed to hold the remaining bits of trauma in my heart — knowing they would be transforned into healing words. And I held each new moment as it unfolded.
Words pointed back to miracles past, comforting pieces of my heart and connecting me in each moment to a timeless, unshakeable higher me. But my prayer had no words.
There was a quiet kind of beauty in allowing my heart to be in pieces. It wasn’t the mending, so much, that allowed my experience in the world began to soften. It was the gentle shift from being the pieces to being the whole Self.
It was too much at first to step out of the pieces. And so I practiced holding and letting go until the tenderness of tapping into my own true essence far outweighed anything else. There was a sweetness in noticing that it did in fact matter what I was experiencing on the inside.
It was sobering to find tenderness in unlikely places — to be willing to listen to life — tossing up thoughts and stories gathered and held so carefully in exchange for a new kind of emptiness and the courage to regather pieces of my heart again and again — each time a little more sweetly.
It was a relief not to need to fit the many pieces of my heart together all at once.
There were times when the most loving thing I could do was to let go of all the pieces I had been trying to fit together. I learned to toss it all and trust the right pieces to come back down in each moment.
I learned to trust the part of me that could hold and let go of all of my experiencs. I liked the tenderness of subtle insights and the feeling of connection so much that I was willing to risk taking a path I couldn’t see.
The more I listened to life, the more I noticed the part of me that could hold and let go of any experience. There was a softening each time I stood a little more firmly in my heart and dared to linger in the silent space.
Words formed out of this place soothed and echoed in places that had seemed unhealable. And there was tenderness where there had been only pain.
There was peace within the complete surrender to my own offering in a time of uncertainty. It was understood that there were no guarantees of particular outcomes, but I had found those to be precisely the times when the purest love shines most brightly.
What mattered most was my resolve to show up and offer the highest thought I could in each experience. Every single negative experience was met with the intention to allow it to become something beautiful, not by trying too hard to analyze, but because of the resolve that grew organically out of necessity to transform darkness into light within and wherever it touched me — whatever the outcome.
Quiet our hearts, just enough —
that we may know the love
beneath all things.
Give us courage to choose,
in each moment,
where to go from here. Amen