Quiet Reflections and Prayers
I began to listen
a little more deeply —
turning down the volume
of thoughts and stories —
focusing more and more
in my heart.
I found the contrast
shocking, really.
There was a tender
kind of sadness
as a quieter view
came more into focus
and what was most real
and true
began to show through
all the clutter.
And I vowed
that however great
the contrast became,
this time —
I wouldn’t let go
of this.
Help us
to hold a space
for ourselves
and each other.
Remind us
of the power
in remaining
rooted in our hearts.
Help us to trust
in this natural flow
that has carried us
through unfolding stories,
into silence
and back.
Thank you
for each heart
in which true peace
is held.
Amen
And so it was
this deep listening
prayer
that reached down
into the places
in me
that couldn’t be
reached in other ways —
healing
and reminding me
how to listen
with my heart.
I began to get
a sense of
what it meant
to be in the heart,
to notice the peace
I had longed for.
It was quieter
here.
And still I knew
to continue on.
After all,
there really was
no going back
and no clear destination —
only a mysterious
unfolding road
ahead of me
and the most beautiful
prayer I had ever heard —
without any words.
I learned
to ride the waves
of this life.
I learned not to try
so hard to hold on
to any particular thought
or feeling or form.
And I understood
the beauty within
this natural flow
that is me.
I stand still
in my heart —
in honor of
all that remains
unhealed in me
and in the world.
I honor
the mystery,
the sacred journey,
and the enduring
peace in this place.
I offer
this quiet prayer
as others have done
for me.
Amen
When we reach the place where there are no more words, I will sit with you. And I will wait. And I will hold a different kind of prayer, the one that comes from our deepest hearts — the one whispered to my own soul in my darkest hour. And I will become this silent prayer that listens and vows to hold this place in me and in you — forever. Amen.
I stopped
needing to try
so hard
to be okay.
The need to
neatly sort
all of life
was replaced
by a peace
in holding
and letting go
of everything —
as a prayer.
Out of necessity,
I became willing
to remember how
to see with
my heart —
to dare myself
to hold my focus
just below the surface —
to toss everything
and trust
what was needed
to come back down —
to meet my Self
in each moment —
to notice again and again
that I was indeed
still okay here —
until this was
the most
natural place
to be.
After a while,
it was most natural
to be the space
beyond words,
that strangely familiar place
where thought formed
out of nothingness
as quiet prayers
once known only
as far-away whispers
triggering some long-forgotten
memory of a time
when I was not
separate from the space
within my heart.
Laurie's Notes 