Quiet Reflections and Prayers
Let me be
the natural peace
within my own heart,
honoring all that is
most true in me
and in you —
holding my ground
where I am
most healed.
Let all that is
in me
and all of my experiences
in the world
reflect this peace
in this moment
and the next.
Amen
Life continued to unfold
with all of its challenges
and pain
and beauty.
Questions like
Who am I
and the unshakeable
determination to keep
showing up
became more important
than any one insight
or set of
explanations —
pulling me each time
back a little more
into Self —
not deeper down
into thought,
but straight through
all if it
to its core —
where I sensed intuitively
and found great relief
in knowing
this as my center.
When there is much
to sort through,
when we are tempted
to contract —
to pick up old habits
of playing small,
remind us
of the wholeness
we are.
Show us the tenderness
at our core
and right in front of us.
Give us courage
to be this space
of wholeness,
unfolding simultaneously
in these human forms.
Thank you.
Amen
There was a backing up,
a turning around
of some part of me
that once tried to
shape the world
to match what I thought
I wanted
out of the hope
of a me that had
forgotten who I am.
It was in this
turning around
and stepping back
a little more
and a little more
that I could see
ever more clearly —
until there was
a delicate holding
and letting go
of all it,
without condition —
and my deepest,
highest wishes
depended only on this.
When we have reached
the place
where words can’t go,
when we seem
most separated
by time and distance,
when the way through
all that stands between us
can’t be seen
and all that is known
is the next needed step,
let us remember
the quiet,
often silent prayers,
that led us that far
and continue on.
Amen
The time came
to find a gentler way,
to turn back
from the path of mind —
retracing my steps
just a little.
…
At first it felt
a bit lonely,
as there seemed to be
fewer taking this turn.
And I admit I missed
the crowds at times
and the paved roads
and maps.
…
But as I walked this
strangely familiar path
unfolding in front of me,
I began to remember
what it felt like
to walk on the earth,
to be free to notice
and allow my attention
to fall where it liked,
to experience the world
around me
and inside of me
without a constant
narrating mind.
…
And sure enough,
just as I had guessed,
I was okay
in this place —
where everything was
as it had been —
feelings and sensations
and challenges
and thoughts.
But without the narrator,
without the constant story,
they had taken on a
lighter feel,
softened somehow —
along this path
of the heart.
Just for a moment,
let’s hold what is
most true.
Let’s dust off those
wordless prayers
we keep tucked away
and raise them up —
past all the noise
on the surface
to their true place —
not to reach some
distant goal,
but just to meet,
just for a moment,
in the heart.
Amen
When what is in my heart
and yours
has gotten lost, somehow,
in translation,
may we have courage
to hold steady —
letting go and trusting
in all that can’t
be spoken.
May the words
that come back
be firmly rooted
in this place.
Amen
Thank you
for each part played
in this great mystery
of life —
for there are
surely no small parts here.
Thank you
for each act of love —
each burden carried,
held with honor
and transformed.
Thank you
for each moment
of true connection
kept sacred —
those who dare
to hold something pure
within,
sharing only the beauty
of its reflection.
Thank you for each
courageous step
into the heart.
Amen
Let the noise
within
be quieted,
just enough —
that we may hear
our own quiet prayers
and know
without doubt
that we could never be
apart.
Amen
Laurie's Notes 