Quiet Reflections and Prayers
There was a backing up,
a turning around
of some part of me
that once tried to
shape the world
to match what I thought
I wanted
out of the hope
of a me that had
forgotten who I am.
It was in this
turning around
and stepping back
a little more
and a little more
that I could see
ever more clearly —
until there was
a delicate holding
and letting go
of all it,
without condition —
and my deepest,
highest wishes
depended only on this.
When we have reached
the place
where words can’t go,
when we seem
most separated
by time and distance,
when the way through
all that stands between us
can’t be seen
and all that is known
is the next needed step,
let us remember
the quiet,
often silent prayers,
that led us that far
and continue on.
Amen
The time came
to find a gentler way,
to turn back
from the path of mind —
retracing my steps
just a little.
…
At first it felt
a bit lonely,
as there seemed to be
fewer taking this turn.
And I admit I missed
the crowds at times
and the paved roads
and maps.
…
But as I walked this
strangely familiar path
unfolding in front of me,
I began to remember
what it felt like
to walk on the earth,
to be free to notice
and allow my attention
to fall where it liked,
to experience the world
around me
and inside of me
without a constant
narrating mind.
…
And sure enough,
just as I had guessed,
I was okay
in this place —
where everything was
as it had been —
feelings and sensations
and challenges
and thoughts.
But without the narrator,
without the constant story,
they had taken on a
lighter feel,
softened somehow —
along this path
of the heart.
Just for a moment,
let’s hold what is
most true.
Let’s dust off those
wordless prayers
we keep tucked away
and raise them up —
past all the noise
on the surface
to their true place —
not to reach some
distant goal,
but just to meet,
just for a moment,
in the heart.
Amen
Thank you
for each part played
in this great mystery
of life —
for there are
surely no small parts here.
Thank you
for each act of love —
each burden carried,
held with honor
and transformed.
Thank you
for each moment
of true connection
kept sacred —
those who dare
to hold something pure
within,
sharing only the beauty
of its reflection.
Thank you for each
courageous step
into the heart.
Amen
Let the noise
within
be quieted,
just enough —
that we may hear
our own quiet prayers
and know
without doubt
that we could never be
apart.
Amen
I hold this silent prayer
for the times
when we feel small,
when we fail
to reach past
all that seems to stand
between us —
that we may remember
to reach again
and to trust
that our silent prayers
are always spoken
and heard —
even when we forget.
Amen
There was a holding
and letting go motion
that happened
out of the need
for the purest kind
of love,
the kind that could honor
without understanding
and heal
without fixing —
seeing through
and even loving
all the murky places
where human minds
get stuck —
somehow leaping over
or sinking down past —
taking the slightest step
back into itself —
whatever was required.
When I have let go
of so much,
when my body is tired
and my spirit is too,
when I can’t see
a break in the story,
remind me of the calm
just beneath the surface,
the slightest change
of positioning,
and that little bit
of backing up
so that I may
retrace my steps
to even greater reprieve.
Amen
And so I vow
to live
in a new way,
fully present and grounded,
unafraid to be right here
among all that is
messy and unclear
and uncomfortable,
in surrender
to all that is most healed
in me,
holding space for more healing
and sacred hope
for the transformation
of all that seems unhealable
and unsolvable,
in reverence
of my own experience
and yours.
— from earlier notes
Laurie's Notes 