Quiet Reflections and Prayers
I think we have hearts
because it was seen
that we might need
a safe place to go
when thoughts and life
became too much
to sort through alone.
And so we hold
this heart space
for each other —
where there is
always calm,
where we are
always okay,
always held —
just as we are.
Listening happened
in my heart,
in my whole body,
without the need
for the constant noise
of trying so hard
or working it all out.
Experiencing happened
more naturally,
often out of
many different experiences
at once,
and organized itself
into understanding
beyond thought —
within this quiet space.
One of the most
beautiful treasures
of the heart,
was the complete awe
in finding
the empty space
where energies I had
tried so hard
to struggle against
had simply fallen away.
And in that awe,
every connection,
every thought —
every moment
was enough
exactly as it was.
I found there is
a natural rhythm
of life,
one we lose touch with
when we find ourselves
living in our thoughts
or trying to create
just the right
circumstances
or feeling state —
trying to figure out
or find
something to make
this life
more predictable
so that it all makes
some kind of sense.
But I found the deepest
kind of peace
in returning to this
most natural rhythm
of life.
And so I allow
my words
to find their own way —
that they might
reflect this natural rhythm
and remind us
what it feels like
to be alive and free.
It doesn’t matter
how many challenges
we are faced with.
It doesn’t matter
if I don’t know
how or when
the pain will lift
or what will show up
that will soften
your heart
and mine
I only know
that it will —
because I have been
to the place
of in-between.
And I have walked
straight through.
Underneath
all of the noise,
past the misunderstandings
and old wounds
and even older traumas,
there is pure longing,
not to be fixed,
but to be loved.
And so I take hold
of this place in me.
And if I must
reassure it
in every
moment
forever,
I will.
— Laurie, Healer of My Own Heart
At times,
the surface life
appeared unsettled.
Often there was
much to sort through.
But if I dared to sink
just a little below,
thoughts began to appear
a little slower —
offering themselves
as quiet prayers
and fading gracefully
back into stillness —
where whatever reappeared
was always just enough.
I found a certain joy
in listening
to life —
holding moments
and thoughts
and letting go —
listening without needing
to cling
or becoming stale —
joining the continuous
motion of life —
noticing the quiet stillness
in all if it.
Writing calms me
like medicine.
It quiets me.
I don’t try to understand
with my mind.
I just let it flow out
and sink in
to my heart.
Sometimes one word
shows up in a piece
and reaches where I couldn’t
reach in other ways.
Maybe it is that
I have to become
so still inside
to listen
with my whole being.
Maybe it is this listening
that calms the little parts
of me so profoundly.
— Laurie, Heart Space
There was less
of a need
to form solid conclusions
and interpret meaning
in each experience.
Instead, there was
a sense of being
part of life,
naturally contributing
my part —
quieting my own heart
a little more with
each unnarrated moment
and carrying on.
Laurie's Notes 