Quiet Reflections and Prayers
I found safety
in the natural way
I began to explore
myself and the world
around me.
I began to use thought
as a kind of safety net,
an intimate way
of staying grounded
and allowing myself
to be gently guided —
returning safely
again and again
to this quiet space
where I first waited
for my heart to speak
in a way I could
understand.
There was something precious
about getting down to
the core —
something raw —
a quieting,
a letting go
of the need to be
anything more
than life living itself
naturally —
stillness moving
on borrowed time
in no time —
releasing
and affirming itself
silently or as
a whisper.
My heart’s song
was in the natural way
I finally vowed
to go to the core —
to drop everything
and explore
a natural moment
of stillness —
to listen deeply
to nature and art —
to accept only
what was right
in front of me —
without labels,
withought thoughts
of being fixed —
without a need
to understand,
heal or change
anything.
I began to listen
here.
May I meet
this world
and the noise
within
with the grace
of knowing
all parts of myself
and the silence
of my own
deepest heart —
underneath.
When I am tempted
to go a different way,
lead me gently
back.
Amen
I declare a truce,
a respite,
a little space
for healing —
here,
in the stillness
of my heart.
— Laurie, Heart Space
Whisper your love
softly,
in this place –
that we might hear
your voice
above all else.
Amen
At times,
the surface life
appeared unsettled.
Often there was
much to sort through.
But if I dared to sink
just a little below,
thoughts began to appear
a little slower —
offering themselves
as quiet prayers
and fading gracefully
back into stillness —
where whatever reappeared
was always just enough.
I found a certain joy
in listening
to life —
holding moments
and thoughts
and letting go —
listening without needing
to cling
or becoming stale —
joining the continuous
motion of life —
noticing the quiet stillness
in all if it.
I began to notice
a natural softening
in myself and others
as I aligned to my own
true essence —
a subtle shifting
that bypassed
the need to sort out
every personal flaw
and pattern.
There was a sense
of relief
after having struggled
and identified ourselves
with the parts
that were evolving —
an embracing —
a relaxing into
our own inherent wholeness.
I found a certain
rhythm within
the changing stories
and happenings —
an aliveness
I was once afraid
to trust —
until there was
no other choice
but to follow
this aliveness,
past the stories —
all the way
to nothing —
to its purest form —
where it was
less empty
than all I had tried
to fill it with.
Laurie's Notes 