Quiet Reflections and Prayers
There was
a delicate tenderness
in the ability
and willingness
to look beyond
the surface of all
things —
to stand firmly
in my heart
in all instances —
to refuse to miss
treasures hidden
within —
to renew my vow
with each step —
to always find
the path of my
heart.
Somehow I have learned
to hold
a little longer,
to listen
a little deeper,
to stand in chaos
and find only clarity,
to look through
all that is here
and see only beauty —
to reach deep down
into the depths
of despair
and know only love.
I found
what it really meant
to be strong —
to adapt
and evolve
through great challenges.
And I found there came
a time to merge
all that was gained
with a different path
and find a gentler
way.
I searched
until I found
a gentle way
that included
all parts of me
I had so tenderly
healed,
all that remained
unhealed,
and all that
was born
because I had merged
two paths.
And so there was
a new story
born out of my
determination
not to reject
any piece of Self
or deny the transformation
to continue
and my dedication
to my own
quiet prayer.
It was not a choice
between two stories,
but an honoring
of both —
a delicate move
toward inclusion
I had practiced
before.
The tricky part
was standing my ground
and allowing
what was already
to come together
in my heart
and all of its
reflections.
It was possible
to amplify tenderness —
to hold
and heal
pieces of Self
grown tired
from all the pushing
against
old wounds
needing to be
honored,
not exploited,
and all the back-and-forth
originally intended
to turn us back
toward our hearts.
There was risk,
of course.
But continuing
in the direction of
separation
had become too painful.
We had been healing
at the root.
And so we held our
ground
and found our way —
through my willingness
and yours.
I release
these pieces
having held
and honored
and transformed
each one
into a prayer
in my heart.
I know they belong
not only to me,
but to all of us.
And so I send
this message in a bottle
back
to where I found it —
knowing whatever returns
will come freely,
as a gift from
a deeper me.
I had stood
on the edge.
I had looked darkness
in the face.
I had searched
my own soul
down to the core
and held the tiniest
point of light.
And I had grown
tired.
I had screamed
and cried.
And I had
given up —
for a while.
I had found comfort
and regathered
my heart
in pieces
and yes,
prayed —
to whoever could hear —
again.
I had listened
to whoever dared
to share
anything that resembled
what I had known
and let go of
and knew again
in that moment —
without a doubt.
I found a lightness
I had forgotten
and remembered
somewhere
along the way.
I was thankful
for all that had
led me around
and through
to that exact
point —
though I could offer it
no words.
I was thankful
to know
we were all
evolving.
I was honored
to continue on —
to focus
a little more sweetly
on where we were
going.
I knew it was
a really tender place.
And I knew it was
a tender place
right where we stood.
I believe in the power
of pure love
and transformation.
I choose to follow
the path of my heart
and stand
in the fire
of my soul.
— Laurie, What’s Right Here
Laurie's Notes 