There is a love that reaches to the wounded place inside. And there is a love that flows because it has touched this reaching — needing only to express its unending gratitude for its own embrace. — Laurie, Heart Space Advertisements
There was a continuous movement within the stillness of my true Self. It was the softening of all parts of me that had felt separate and lost in repetitive cycles of emotional pain. I had reached the place of enough is enough and decided to find my way to tenderness. Tenderness came out of the realization I was reliving the exact same old pain I had vowed to never feel again. It came out of […]
There were times when the most pressing work to be done was to retrace my steps, to return to a place of reprieve — to soothe my own heart a little more.
Help us to remember that underneath all that appears is a quiet space — where we know we are more than the parts we play. Remind us of the sacred art of healing from within. Amen
For a while, I looked to the outer world for something that would offer an answer or mend the whole in my heart. But this journey had a way of softening the healer in me, little by little — until the purity of her love could no longer be denied — until there were no more holes in my heart to be filled. And life began to reflect a truer, gentler me.
I learned to listen to life, not as a distant, separate being, but as a gentle interpreter of messages to deeper parts of me. I loved the tender way the messages softened as I found courage to soften my own heart a little more.
Thank you for kindness. Thank you for smiles and notes and true connection. Thank you for quiet reflections of peace as I find balance within my own deepest heart. Amen
Life continued to unfold. There were difficult moments. But they were always held and honored in the purest love. It was seen that all things emerged from and faded back into that same love.
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.
It began as a hint of self-love, a quiet prayer passed gently by one or two who dared to risk dwelling in unexplored places within the heart. It continued on as compassion — carried carefully by those who had discovered, in their own way, the pain and beauty in holding a separate perspective and set of original experiences that couldn’t be shared, not really — and the tenderness in reaching from this place.