Quiet Reflections and Prayers
Life, with all its challenges
and miracles, had a way of leading
my heart back to the quiet space within
and the setting down of all of the tangled up,
unresolved thoughts —
the difficult step of tossing everything else
up to God.
Time and time again I found myself
in a place of too much —
the only clear option being
to return again humbly
to my deepest heart
and begin again from there.
I began to notice moments
of unfolding tenderness.
It was okay if there were
challenging moments.
I had learned that experiences
were always transforming
and, like the wind,
could change course
in an instant.
And it was enough to know
I could, in any moment,
hold or allow myself to be carried
by the sweet, gentle breeze
of my deepest heart.
After a while
a gentler way through the winding
roads of this human journey
became a little clearer
as the pieces of my own
shattered heart began to appear
a little less broken
and a little more like unpolished
treasures entrusted to my care.
I was never without
connection with a deeper space
within the greater whole,
though it seemed
to dance around a bit
through different forms
and natural things —
reaching back again —
softly touching the tender,
hidden spaces I once tried
to resolve.
Words became a gentle
path back into the willingness
to feel and to be a little more
present.
After a while, they began
to echo the silence of
my deepest heart —
winding their way through
old wounds —
soothing whatever appeared
along the way.
It took a little bit of courage
allowing softer thoughts to form —
landing on a surprisingly comforting
background of emptiness —
flowing effortlessly,
drifting a little more deeply
into my deepest heart.
Maybe it was the gentle rhythm
I had allowed myself to feel
once again,
for just a moment,
or a word formed of this
same emptiness
allowed to echo even more —
somehow, gently,
against all odds,
from this deeper space
within.
After a little while,
I caught on that this
human experience was in fact
a sacred journey.
And so I began to take notes —
connecting the person
to a more expanded,
formless self —
comforting and guiding —
lighting my path
as it unfolded —
navigating through contrast —
following what felt most true —
listening and feeling my way
into my deepest heart.
Life began to soften
ever so slightly.
It was risky to hold
the love I had found
in my heart.
There were body memories
of the times when the contrast
between my heart and the world
had been too much to hold —
or so I thought.
Little by little I had somehow
learned how to hold whatever
needed holding —
for however long it needed
to be held —
even if it was forever.
Writing became a meditation,
an easily accessible way
to connect with a truer sense
of self —
in any moment.
My notes became precious tickets
back to parts of self
and back into the world.
Even after I reached a point
where I could safely let go,
translating lived experience
into words continued to be
a ticket into the quiet space within
I wouldn’t have traded
for an easier path.
And so the unfolding continued,
along with challenges.
It took a bit of reorientation
into finding calm
in the midst of challenge,
but it was possible.
Finding creative ways of
meeting challenges and triggers
head on and moving through
quickly became a valued skill.
It helped to be okay
with having a tender space within
where it was understood
that some things might not ever
be completely resolved.
It helped to understand the difference
between resolution and transformation.
This quickly shifted the focus
onto the tenderness of meeting
the present moment without attachment
to future results.
It helped to remember that it was
this tender space that had
been the source of past healing
and creative processes.
Sometimes there were no words. And then somehow, mysteriously, worlds began to well up from somewhere beyond. A new kind of thought from a gentler place began to transform all that seemed unreachable. Gentle prayers began to take form out of the resolve to surrender everything — just to remember this place for a moment.
There came a desire to remain in this place within — just a little longer — no matter what appeared on the surface or how big the challenges seemed.
Laurie's Notes 