Quiet Reflections and Prayers
I learned there is nothing
comparable to the strength
of the human spirit
when aligned with its creator
and wililling, win or lose,
to protect all that is innocent,
sacred and true.
I learned there is no greater joy
or frightening responsibility
than the vow to preserve
something sacred,
no matter what —
or to hold and honor what had
once been threatened,
knowing nothing could ever
divide what is and has always been
forever, divinely
connected and united.
There was a time when
the vast contrast between
what I knew to be true
in my heart
and what I observed in the world
around me was too painful to hold,
and I choose
to surrender my heart.
And then there came a time when
the pain of being separated
from my heart
and the very real effect of
a withering soul taken over
by darkness
gave rise to something surprising —
a renewed spirit that had no need
for any kind of attachment
to deception —
a whole spirit unafraid to face,
hold or let go of whatever appeared —
whatever was required.
What seemed like
a subtle shift in thinking
and the ability to focus
within
became a valuable tool
to navigate in a world
in the midst of its own
healing process.
It was a lifesaver during
overwhelming times
to be able to focus feelings
and thoughts
in such a way as to allow
them to be reflected.
After a while I learned to be in my heart and in the world. I learned to extract all that was beautiful and all that was tender from each experience. I learned to stand with the part of me that was most healed and let go — holding the door of my heart for all that was not quite beautiful — daring to continue on with love.
I found peace
in each moment
of choice.
I found it
each time I dared
to look things
straight in the face
and reach
for the most healed
part of me
and others
and for the
divine.
It was a choice.
The option was
always there
to close my eyes
and stop reaching.
But I understood where
that led —
after a while.
And so
I came to this
clear space
in my heart
where I could be
with myself
in a different way —
where I could
listen
for my true voice
that was always
with me —
where I could find
comfort
and connection.
There came a time
when I refused
to give up
the bigger goal.
I vowed to
surrender every last
part of me
in every single
moment
for no other reason
than to experience
my own true
essence.
As I continued
to reflect on
my own journey,
I began to remember
what original thought
felt like
before being
interpreted
or manipulated.
And this
pure thought
became a kind of
medicine —
reaching a part of me
that had longed
to hear her own
true voice.
There was
a sense of connection
that couldn’t come
out of finally being
fully understood
on the surface.
It didn’t come out
of finally finding
all the answers
to endless questions.
It didn’t even really
come out
of anything
I had gathered
in my attempts
to find it.
This sense of connection
came out of
the whole journey —
through the pain of
rejection
and the willingness
to walk through
the unknown
in search of
whatever it was
I thought I was
reaching for.
But that was the strength
of the pure desire
to reach
and to know my own
true voice —
no matter what.
I began to
listen a little
more deeply,
noticing without
forming thought
too soon.
I found myself
safely grounded
in the sacred space
of my heart.
I could feel
when truth was
spoken
and recognize
my own true
voice rising
out of the silent
spaces I had longed for
and feared.
And I knew I could
filter it out of
any amount of noise
and clutter.
Laurie's Notes 