Tag: awakening

Tenderness, Unsorted

Embraced

Laurie's Notes

It was disheartening to surrender

to the idea that love of truth

and the desire to see and protect

one’s own true spirit

and that within others had gotten a bit

scrambled.

Sometimes sacred things got mixed up

on the road to tenderness.

Sometimes darkness found its way in

where there was wounding,

And it took a while to let go of the idea

that moving further away from

true unity based on united sovereign souls

could ever lead anywhere good.

No, in the end, darkness and separation

had to be seen for what it was–

looked straight in the face

and released.

Parts of Self desperately hated,

disconnected,

and previously entwined with the dark

had to be embraced.

Continuing On, Unsorted

Unseen

Laurie's Notes

Just when I thought

there was no hope,

just when darkness seemed

to have won,

I learned something surprising.

I learned this was the perfect

set up for an equal and opposite

surge of light

that would outshine every last

bit of darkness.

And once lit,

nothing could put it out

What was seen could never be

unseen.

Continuing On, Unsorted

What Remained

Laurie's Notes

For the most part,

what remained was the sweet

tenderness of the journey.

It was a bit of a jolt

when the dark nights appeared.

But with each one came

a little more light, pointing the way,

ever so clearly, to my true essence

and connection with my true Self.

It was, of course, difficult

during those intense times

of clearing out and letting go.

There was grief.

There was a lot of grief.

And there was, when I dared to trust

and keep going,

an ever expanding space of

tenderness,

which I wouldn’t have traded

for the chance to hold on

to anything else.

From A Quiet Prayer, Unsorted

No Guarantees

Laurie's Notes

There was the choice to align

with truth and life

at all costs…or not.

There was that one moment

when it was clear

enough life had been lived

and dishonored by oneself

to realize it had always been

a miracle

and that moment might be

the first chance of many

or the last for a while

to speak in alignment, finally,

from the heart.

What to say in that moment?

Rehash the details

of the dark or light the way

with a reclaimed soul?

(Holding space for healing,

of course.)

Say what is safe

or what is most true?

Shout with compassion

or comply with fear?

Pause and play along

as needed… perhaps.

Use every last bit of true love and

restraint?

It was impossible to predict

There were

no guarantees.

From A Quiet Prayer, Unsorted

United

Laurie's Notes

I learned there is nothing

comparable to the strength

of the human spirit

when aligned with its creator

and wililling, win or lose,

to protect all that is innocent,

sacred and true.

I learned there is no greater joy

or frightening responsibility

than the vow to preserve

something sacred,

no matter what —

or to hold and  honor what had

once been threatened,

knowing nothing could ever

divide what is and has always been

forever, divinely

connected and united.

Unsorted

Whatever Was Required

Laurie's Notes

There was a time when

the vast contrast between

what I knew to be true

in my heart

and what I observed in the world

around me was too painful to hold,

and I choose

to surrender my heart.

And then there came a time when

the pain of being separated

from my heart

and the very real effect of

a withering soul taken over

by darkness

gave rise to something surprising —

a renewed spirit that had no need

for any kind of attachment

to deception —

a whole spirit unafraid to face,

hold or let go of whatever appeared —

whatever was required.

Unsorted

The Process of Awakening

Laurie's Notes

I found it was possible

to navigate through

the process of awakening into

our own true being.

I understood the courage to face fear

and pain

this required,

while at the same time

navigating through extreme challenges

in the physical world.

It wasn’t easy,

but it was possible.

It was possible to hold my ground

and find a way through.

It was possible to observe and understand

what was indeed happening

in darkness,

to resolve to hold a place of light,

to stand up or speak out when necessary,

and to offer love and forgiveness

where it seemed impossible to do so.

The necessary steps seemed

unclear at times —

only to become clearer

as they appeared.

It required trust, creativity

and the courage to try one more

one more time.

Soothing

Peace in Allowing

Laurie's Notes

I found it most beneficial

to enter what I would later call

a prayer break

during times of deep healing.

I intuitively took actions that needed

to be taken —

letting go of everything

that could wait,

I spent my time with nature, creativity,

simple and nourishing foods,

and meditations (including moving

meditations)

and words from the most

nurturing and wise

healers I could find.

While I was able to trust

my own inner support,

I found it comforting to listen

and feel for truth in the words of others.

I found peace in allowing all emotions and

triggers, while becoming more refined at

responding from more healed parts of me.

I learned to take in information from

the inner and outer and “toss it all”

to my higher self or God.

I found peace in allowing

the pieces to fall back down —

a little at a time —

in ways I could easily understand.

Remembrance

My Deepest Heart

Laurie's Notes

I began to notice moments

of unfolding tenderness.

It was okay if there were

challenging moments.

I had learned that experiences

were always transforming

and, like the wind,

could change course

in an instant.

And it was enough to know

I could, in any moment,

hold or allow myself to be carried

by the sweet, gentle breeze

of my deepest heart.

Unsorted

One More Last Time

Laurie's Notes

I found myself within

a natural flow,

a constant creative process —

a subtle, prayerful transformation

set in motion by one quiet prayer.

I learned to keep going

whenever things didn’t look at all

like what I held in my heart.

I learned to hold my ground

just a little longer —

trusting somehow, one more last time,

in the transformation into tenderness.