Quiet Reflections and Prayers
The tenderness found
in that first moment of surrender
initiated me into the delicate process
of walking through the most
difficult times.
It taught me to hold
and let go of all that is
unhealed and unresolved
in me and in the world.
It offered a glimpse into our creative,
resilient human nature
that finds a way to look
a little deeper
for beauty and hope
and a gentler path.
I found reprieve in
the remembrance of the quiet peace
ever present within my deepest heart.
I found a willingness to listen
a little deeper —
to observe a little longer —
to be carried and
set back down gently
in the present moment
where there was tenderness.
After a while, it was difficult
to see how I could have moved
through life in any other way.
It was the subtle release into a gentle flow that taught me how to soften. Relief came each time I found just enough courage to listen and to soften my own heart a little more.
It came in the quiet pauses just before words of comfort began to form and lingered sweetly — forever.
And so I began
to listen to the one
continuous quiet prayer
in my heart.
And though it was
painfully subtle at times.
I came to know
this quiet voice
as my deepest connection
and healing.
The shifts toward greater alignment with my heart were painfully subtle at times, but I learned that movement is movement. I found any amount of flexibility in my mind and body could be held and carried into more movement and more gentle guiding of unaligned fragments of Self back to the center of my deepest heart — in each moment.
I found there had always been a quiet prayer within my heart. It had been covered up for a while by the noise of the world and the noise within.
It was there each time I dared not to listen to the endless chatter of mind and allowed my attention to land on the space beyond objects and subtle energies within. It appeared gently, as a whisper — like a subtle breeze I might have easily missed.
Life became gentler with every gentle shift inside. At times it was painfully subtle. Sometimes I would look back, and the contrast could be seen as vast .
I stopped falling into smaller parts of me and began to hold them instead. I tossed everything else to God — holding and letting go at once.
There was something about walking through a big enough challenge, the kind that forces the choice to go all the way, to put all cards on the table without a guarantee that it would be enough — trusting it would be met by a greater power.
And there was something about no longer needing such extreme challenges in order to live out this kind of deep surrender. At a certain point, every moment became a prayer of hope — that the path of tenderness might be a little clearer.
I learned the value
in aligning
with my own
heart.
Old patterns
fell away as
I continued to love
all of the many
different parts of
Self.
The goal in each
new moment became
accepting and
integrating parts of
the whole,
allowing love
to flow more freely
from within.
There was a settling
down into my heart
that continued to deepen.
I began to understand
beyond thinking
and listen beyond words.
I learned to hold
my own shadows
and light —
letting go of ideas
held too tightly
in exchange for
the lightness
of compassion for
myself and others
and the renewed strength
to continue on
as a clearer reflection
of my own quiet
prayer.
Laurie's Notes 