Quiet Reflections and Prayers
The contrast was
unbelievable
whenever I looked
back at the way
life had seemed
before.
It wasn’t so much
that the scenery had
changed.
But it had became
more tender.
I found I could
be in my heart
and in the world
at once.
And, in a way
I couldn’t quite
describe,
what had seemed
separate
began to take on
some of the qualities
of the space
within my heart.
I found my greatest
joy within
the quiet moments
where there was
nothing to do
but hold and honor
all that appeared
until it spilled over
and the essence
of every experience
became a prayer.
I found
I could leave
my scattered thoughts
in a safe place.
I didn’t have to
sort them all
at once.
I could trust
my inner healer
to allow
just enough in each
moment.
And so I let go
a little more
into the space
within my heart.
At a certain point,
turning back
wasn’t really an
option.
Continuing to
push and try
to force any pieces
to fit at all
began to look
a little silly.
And so I vowed
to allow
myself to blend
a little more
completely
with the quiet prayer
I held within
my heart.
The longing
to know the deepest
kind of peace
led to questions
and surrenders.
It led to an expanded
view of life
and pain
and love.
It led to my own
deepest heart
and to the quiet prayer
that reached back —
recognized
and honored at last
as my own true
voice.
There was something
sacred
in having healed
to the core,
the memory of
the veering off
from the more widely
traveled path,
and the gentle way
it seemed
to circle back
to reach the most
tender treasures
surrendered
along the way.
It became my way
to follow
the quiet prayer
that had led
me through all
experiences.
There was peace
in touching my own
pure essence
and meeting
all that appeared
from that place —
trusting the safety
found in honoring
my own heart,
however shattered
it may have seemed.
Somehow I got it
that I was moving
in a direction
that wasn’t exactly
where I had wanted
to go.
I had to back up
and look again
from my heart
for whatever it was
I thought I’d been
seeking —
to start over again —
though I had been
trying for so long.
And so I looked
around me —
from exactly where I
stood
and started again
from there.
At a certain point,
the only real
option was to hold
the space within —
to retreat
in surrender
to the quiet prayer
of my heart —
not knowing
how or if
it would affect
anything else.
But it was the only
real option left —
again and again.
The landing became
softer
after a while.
And it didn’t seem
to matter so much
what met me
in that place.
Whatever it was
had to know
the sweetness
of that same
surrender.
I am the space
within my heart,
protected and safe —
free to flow in
any direction
without effort,
without trying
to seek
or learn
or perfect.
I am this —
as I have always
been.
Laurie's Notes 