Quiet Reflections and Prayers
I found
all those old
longings to be seen
and understood
and invisible
and left alone
and right
and all that other
Stuff
had actually been
multiple sides
of the same longing for
my own whole
Self.
When I was connected,
I found life to be
a little less
conditional
and a lot more
fun.
I found
love expanded
and flowed
and gathered
all that had
felt separate
and dishonored
in me,
without ever
imposing.
It taught me how
to shine my way
through any amount
of darkness.
I understood
the sacredness of
honoring the delicate
unfolding of life
as it moved
and naturally became
more of itself.
I learned to grieve
as I let go
without becoming
stuck in my own
grieving.
I learned to move with
all things —
back to my own source.
I wasn’t interested
in winning
or attaining
imitations of love.
I wasn’t stopped
by cluttered thoughts,
but urged on
by a whisper.
As I continued
to reflect on
my own journey,
I began to remember
what original thought
felt like
before being
interpreted
or manipulated.
And this
pure thought
became a kind of
medicine —
reaching a part of me
that had longed
to hear her own
true voice.
I hold this space
for a new way
of being.
I honor the
sacred journey
in me
and in you.
Amen
Sometimes prayers
become wordless —
when there are
a million words
in the heart,
but not one
to match
the rawness
of emotion felt.
And so I offer
my deepest silent
prayer
to the place
of peace
in us all
in this moment
and the next.
And I honor
our steps
as we find our way.
Amen
And so there was
a quieting,
an understanding
beyond words —
a reconnecting
with my own heart
that continued to
deepen.
There was still
pain.
But the desire to
push it down
or project it
outside of me
was replaced
with the move to
honor and
transform it back
into tenderness.
The healing happened
quietly,
behind the scenes.
It was in each
whispered prayer
and moment of
real connection.
It didn’t come
in fancy packages.
It found its way
gently.
And it never
left.
I found it wasn’t
so much that I was
broken.
It was that I felt
disconnected
from my own true
voice —
lost in an ocean
of thoughts
and shoulds.
But there was a subtler
knowing from a little
deeper place
that never gave up
hope.
There was something
beautiful
in allowing life
to fall
quiet for a moment —
allowing the surface
to not be
as my mind
would have it.
I understood
most deeply,
in the quiet times,
the value in following
my heart —
even if it whispered
subtly,
without words —
even if it was
my only connection
on earth —
even if it led
to just one meaningful
thought.
I began to have
a different relationship
with my experiences.
They had become
precious pieces
within a deeper flow,
a way to listen
to life
that led most gently
back to the silent
reverence
within my own
untamed heart.
Laurie's Notes 