Quiet Reflections and Prayers
I have gathered thoughts
and tossed them
many times —
following the words
again and again
all the way back
to silence.
I have waited patiently
for insight —
only to watch it fade.
I have gone
my own way,
taken each step
as a part
of the mystery.
I have gotten lost
and found
many treasures.
I have traced my
own Self
back to nothing.
And I am
still here.
For the times
when there is
much emotion,
when challenges
have piled up
and the surface reflection
shows only separateness,
when we don’t know
where to start
to put the pieces together,
when we can’t see
the whole story,
may we find comfort,
knowing we are creating
a new draft,
participating a little
more fully —
letting go a little more
of needing it to go
a certain way —
writing this time
with our hearts.
Amen
Life continued to unfold
with all of its challenges
and pain
and beauty.
Questions like
Who am I
and the unshakeable
determination to keep
showing up
became more important
than any one insight
or set of
explanations —
pulling me each time
back a little more
into Self —
not deeper down
into thought,
but straight through
all if it
to its core —
where I sensed intuitively
and found great relief
in knowing
this as my center.
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
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
It’s the stillness
I return to,
where thought arises
in the moment,
taking on a
deeper meaning
beyond thinking —
where each part flowes
into the next,
and I am whole.
— Laurie, What’s Right Here
When there are
no more words,
when it is enough
just to be a part
of a living mystery,
I will hold this
silent prayer
and listen
a little more deeply
with my heart.
Amen
Remind me of
the importance
of silence.
Help me to
remember the delicate
balance of reaching
and retreating.
May the simple joy
of knowing I am following
my own perfect path
always be enough.
Amen
Laurie's Notes 