Quiet Reflections and Prayers
I found instant reprieve
in the exact moment
I returned my focus
to the space within my heart.
I learned it was enough
to focus on what was appearing
right in front of me,
allowing all that was past
to be released.
I learned to sense where
life was supporting me to be
in each moment
with a little more grace
and trust.
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 was peace in the delicate way I learned to hold all thoughts and emotions and find my way through challenges — not alone, but with a hint of inner grace and trust I hadn’t known before.
I had gained a respect for the sacred journey back to our hearts. Tender places where old wounds lived reminded me of where I had been and the purity of love able to reach through dark places. The intensity of this love remained and softened the need for such extreme contrast.
There was a tenderness in the careful merging of the most difficult, painfully raw parts of the journey with the equally raw beauty of having found a love pure enough to match it. It was this newly unfolding path I learned to trust in each moment with all my heart.
A little at a time,
I learned
to trust in
the natural flow
of life.
I learned to
wait a little longer
to form judgements
and interpretations.
I learned to
not wait so long
to reach
for the part
of me
that could see
a wider view
and offer just enough
in each moment.
I let go
once more
into the emptiness,
into the mysterious
and messy
and beautiful –
because I have learned
what it means
to be whole
and to trust
in all that is here
and all that is
within.
Thank you
for walking with me
through my despair
when there was
no guarantee
that it would
be enough
to reach
the other side —
aside from
the feel of
your steady hand
and willingness
to wait for mine.
I couldn’t see
how all those
pieces could ever
come together.
But I had decided
it was worth the risk
to continue on —
in trust.
And so I tossed
all that I thought
I knew
and opened my arms
to catch
whatever truth,
whatever pieces
came back down —
knowing there was
room for my own
reaching —
knowing I didn’t
reach alone.
I found myself
listening to life
in a way I could only
discover through direct
experience,
an exploration of how
this worked for me —
aided by my observations
of others,
my willingness
and innate ability
to listen with my heart
and trust what it revealed.
Life began to feel
more organic.
Trying to be
a certain way
or thing
was replaced
with natural movements
of exploring
and doing my
very best with
the pieces in front
of me
in each moment —
showing up
as my truest self
again and again —
trusting in life —
because I had dared
to let go
of everything.
Laurie's Notes 