Quiet Reflections and Prayers
I found there were
places along the
winding path
of my heart
that remained
unsorted.
It was these unresolved
pieces of my own story
that I came to honor
as doorways
into the mysterious —
the place where words
couldn’t go
and only the purest love
was felt
in their place.
There was a quieting,
a gentle shift
from pure survival
to an aliveness
that flowed out of
the willingness to embrace
carefully hidden emotion
in a way that was
both safe
and strong enough
to hold
the most painful experiences —
transforming them,
through this holding,
into something beautiful.
It was rather sweet —
the way my mind
began to follow
my lead —
listening,
smiling at the silence
instead of filling it —
holding ever so lightly —
one wordless prayer
after another.
And so I followed
the words —
each time a little further
back into the silence
I had come to love.
I had acquired the taste
for the gentle transformation
into the subtle knowing,
the quiet prayer
I once tried
to understand
and grasp.
I found both loneliness
and freedom
in the many small choices
not to mold the words
that flowed from my heart
into any particular
form or practice.
And so they remained
as they were written,
as my own heart —
untamed and free.
Because of
the most challenging
of circumstances,
I was drawn directly
into the center of
my deepest heart.
From this position,
from this blessing
in disguise,
I was able to
walk through anything.
Looking back,
I wouldn’t have chosen
anything at all
over the peace
I found in that moment —
when there was
no other choice.
And so every thought,
every experience,
every memory began
to soften.
All that I experienced
seemed to be touched
by the purity of love
I had held
within my deepest heart.
And I found it had
always been this way —
love reaching back
for itself.
I found peace
in the letting go
of the need
to hold each detail
of my own life
so tightly.
Somehow,
because all attempts
at solving the puzzle
of my own struggles
in the usual ways
completely failed,
I was left
holding the remnants
of a deeper story.
This was the story
I wanted to share
because it belonged
to a deeper me.
There was tenderness
in the persistent way
pieces of my own heart
longed for understanding
and in the gentle way
they became willing
to surrender
the need to grasp —
to step outside
neatly sorted
concepts and ideas
and every place
that was comfortable
and guaranteed —
to toss it all up
again and again
because it was
the most loving thing.
I found peace
in the quiet way
I learned to hold
and let go
of all that crossed
my path.
I found it
in the silence
within my heart,
often in the middle
of the most difficult
parts of the journey
where the sound
of my own steps
taken in pure faith
and a knowing smile
from a passer-by
became my greatest hope
and inspired me
to keep walking
straight through.
Laurie's Notes 