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.
Quiet Reflections and Prayers
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.
Out of my deepest
silent prayer,
my true voice
called out
to be heard.
Its words were
clear and true
and led
safely back
to the silence
within my own
deepest heart.
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 found it was
possible to find
our way back
to our hearts.
I found that,
for every single
thing I gave up
along the way,
for every broken dream
and every person
I couldn’t reach,
there was an expansion
of the tender space
I had come to know
as the source
of true peace,
connection,
and happiness.
I wish to reflect
all that is soft,
to offer my love
to all that is not —
to remind us
of the sacredness
of the journey
and the beauty
in the transformation.
— Laurie, What’s Right Here
I found things seemed
most tangled up
when there was
shifting going on
a little
deeper down.
And moving through
meant holding on
while letting go —
the most delicate
of moves.
In this
softened light
and standing firmly
in my heart,
I thought
just maybe being brave
meant stepping back
to peek behind
what seemed to be
so shattered.
Perhaps
we weren’t as broken,
good or bad
or disconnected
as our minds
had made us out
to be.
As if by candlelight
and following
a whispered prayer,
I set out
to find my heart again.
Determined as I was
to mark the path,
I held that light
a little higher
somewhere along the way.
And in that instant,
it seemed it wasn’t
that we had strayed
so far,
but that we had forgotten
we could change
the lighting
of this place.
There was
a turning around —
a softening —
a quiet letting go —
a returning to
my own natural center.
And there,
finally.
was peace.