Quiet Reflections and Prayers
Life became
more of a natural,
organic process.
Figuring every step
and knowing
exactly how
to do it
was replaced with
quiet joy picked up
somewhere
in the exploration,
the delicate
innate ability to
trade in confusion
for a search for
tenderness
and the magic
of unexpected treasures
found along the way.
There’s a tender
kind of humility
that comes out of
finding one’s own
deepest beating heart
and vowing to heal it
at that very core —
no matter what happens
on the surface —
because it is seen
that to make any kind
of lasting difference
it simply must
be done.
Words like should
and never no longer
apply.
In fact, all words
fail to express
the view
on the way back
up.
I had to know
what was right
there with me,
an internal knowing
I seemed to have
lost —
a different kind
of thought
that bubbled up
subtly
more like sensing —
a quiet prayer
that, when followed,
led through challenges —
past all the surface hype —
back into real satisfaction
and lasting
calm —
naturally clearing away
every other question —
softening
everything in its path —
if only I could
remember the words.
All things became
infused with
and flowed out of
this quiet prayer —
this same subtle,
inaudible whisper
I strained so hard
to hear —
not so long ago.
And so I held this space
in my heart
above all else.
I let go
and held and released
shattered pieces
of a me
I thought I was —
again and again
as they came
back down,
for a while —
until I knew
it was safe
to let go completely —
to be a lighter,
more subtle me
that could hold
and let go
of everything
without exception —
without a thought —
all at once.
Help us
to hold a space
for ourselves
and each other.
Remind us
of the power
in remaining
rooted in our hearts.
Help us to trust
in this natural flow
that has carried us
through unfolding stories,
into silence
and back.
Thank you
for each heart
in which true peace
is held.
Amen
I began to get
a sense of
what it meant
to be in the heart,
to notice the peace
I had longed for.
It was quieter
here.
And still I knew
to continue on.
After all,
there really was
no going back
and no clear destination —
only a mysterious
unfolding road
ahead of me
and the most beautiful
prayer I had ever heard —
without any words.
Life began to feel
more organic.
Trying to be
a certain way
or thing
was replaced
with natural movements
of exploring
and doing my
very best with
the pieces in front
of me
in each moment —
showing up
as my truest self
again and again —
trusting in life —
because I had dared
to let go
of everything.
Because I had felt
the subtle shifting
at the bottom
of my heart
and noticed
its reflection
outside of me,
I continued on —
keeping my focus
in my heart —
whispering,
feeling,
and being
that same quiet prayer
I had followed
so long ago —
when it was
all that was left.
Having found
my way back
to this sacred space,
this unspoken
silent prayer
I had longed for
in my heart
and in the world
around me
for so long,
there was really
nothing else to do
but continue on —
to hold this space
and to be it.
Laurie's Notes 