The next part was easy — at a certain point. Holding all of the pieces of my heart, there was just one more step, the release.
I stopped trying so hard to fit the pieces together as a separate little me. And I reached for something higher. It was the sweetest kind of surrender.
Life became gentler with every gentle shift inside. At times it was painfully subtle. Sometimes I would look back, and the contrast could be seen as vast .
I stopped falling into smaller parts of me and began to hold them instead. I tossed everything else to God — holding and letting go at once.
A different quality of thought arose whenever I chose to return to the wordless prayer in my heart. I liked the natural quieting within that seemed to grow each time I returned to this wordless space.
Where there had been constant noise, there was a beautiful space of listening prayer.
I found peace in the deep knowing that all things could be viewed as being in a state of continuous transformation into tenderness.
Every single creative project I entered as well as every life challenge reflected the serenity to be found as I surrendered ever more deeply into this organic movement. Instead of trying so hard to struggle against this natural process, I learned to return to the quiet prayer within and allow outer movement to follow.
I began to notice small moments of natural tenderness and a faint whisper of a wordless prayer in my heart. It was the opposite of the struggle to push away pain and impossible to ignore because I had known such huge contrast.
After a while, it was most natural to remain open to experiences and the slightest sign or hint of the beginnings of tenderness.
I found all things eventually reached the point where there was no real option but to let go and trust in a higher wisdom. Trying to hold on too tightly never really worked out.
Again and again, I was faced with increasingly complex experiences where my only hope was to trust I would be met and guided by my healer self with each step. In those moments, I wasn’t depending on my own limited sense of self in a separate body. I was in a state of listening prayer.I was deeply present and receptive to higher inspiration, wherever it came from.
I let go of all forms of thought that didn’t feel like higher inspiration. All stories in my mind that reinforced separateness had to be set down — if only for a moment.
There was pain in returning to wholeness. It was painful to reach back to parts of myself stuck in the past. And it was painful to begin to feel the pain of others as my own pain.
But there was no turning back. There was a tenderness in tapping into truth that I was unwilling to let go of again. And so I continued to meet each unfolding moment from a state of prayer — trusting in life to meet me. It felt like a huge risk, but I had been in that place before.
There were times when the stories around me were complex. I knew the only hope was a miracle — often more than one. And so I vowed to clear my own mind and heart and become one with the quiet prayer that had carried me that far.
I vowed to hold the remaining bits of trauma in my heart — knowing they would be transforned into healing words. And I held each new moment as it unfolded.
Words pointed back to miracles past, comforting pieces of my heart and connecting me in each moment to a timeless, unshakeable higher me. But my prayer had no words.
Thank you for courage
to follow where my heart
and for resolve
to stand firmly
through challenges within
the creative flow
when it would be easier
to take a different path.
Bless all who dare
to continue to create
and those who have not
After a while,
I learned to listen
to the quiet prayer within.
It began as a whisper
but its presence was enough
to light my path
when I felt most challenged.
It reminded me of
the all that was miraculous
and led to a place
of compassion for myself
and others here at this time
as souls in human form.