Quiet Reflections and Prayers
When life on the surface
became too much,
I found there was
immediate relief
in turning inward,
sinking down
past the thoughts
of how things should be,
resetting to a state
of prayer,
and refocusing
in the present moment
as it appeared —
holding, honoring
and letting go
until it became
something beautiful.
Always, this surrender to
a deeper me
was more satisfying
and more tender
than any experience
I could have created
alone.
At a certain point,
it seemed fitting
to sink down
a little more into
the silent spaces
within my heart,
to reach beyond
the complexities of being
in a healing world.
It seemed most natural
to search for this place
in others,
to let go
of the outdated ideas
of healing and peace
and to show up in a new way —
to embrace the unknown
with honor
and openness —
to become willing to participate
in our own evolution —
trusting the way to be shown.
Somewhere along the way,
in the middle of
the journey
and the remembrance
of a deeper me,
came a subtle,
wordless honoring
and the longing to find
and become
the quiet prayer
not quite spoken
or heard
in that mysterious,
magical place
of in-between.
And so there was
a lightening,
a stepping back
and continuing on,
a fork in the road,
a line drawn in the sand,
the quiet knowing
deep down
that it was possible
to be in the world
and also in my heart.
Please
make this okay.
Thank you.
Amen
And so I found
the strongest medicine
for the emotional pain
of being separated
from that pure place
of calm and real connection
with ourselves
and each other,
where the line between
disappears
in the subtle
messages from my heart.
It was in the willingness
to stand still
for just a moment
when there was no time
to stand still,
to stop trying so hard
to be better,
to meet whatever appeared —
even if it was nothing
at all.
It was in the persistence
of holding my ground —
even if that very ground
seemed shakey
and dissolved
into the nothing.
It was here
that I found a peace
that never left.
At a certain point,
it became clear
that relief must come
at once,
in the form of
a respite,
an unspoken truce —
in the middle of
all that remained
unhealed
and unsettled.
And so I entered
the place beyond thought.
And though the energy
of what was held there
was often intense,
it was always tender
to sink a little
further in,
to be willing
to allow the uneasiness
to be there
and to subside,
to see this place
outside of me —
to be okay
no matter what.
I found
it was possible
to hold
all that appeared
for however long,
however intense
life on the surface became —
however hard it shook.
I found it was possible
to hold my ground
a little deeper down
and to reach
a little further out.
I found all things
were shifted
with this willingness
to be
in a state of prayer.
Lead me safely back
to my Self.
Teach me how
not to follow a thought.
Remind me
of the beauty
that exists
just below the surface.
And when it is
time for words,
let them
always be new.
Help me to set down
conditioned thinking
and the need
to be wise
or to be
anything at all.
Let me be
empty instead.
Amen
Laurie's Notes 