Quiet Reflections and Prayers
I honor each
heart that has
shown up
to find its own
true voice
at a time
when so much
is being
transformed.
I honor the sacred
journey each one
must travel
alone
in order
to come together
in a new way.
I honor those
who hold a space
for me
to sort through
all that is in need
of sorting.
I honor
this journey
in my own heart.
And I hold this space
for those
just beginning.
Amen
I began to listen
with my heart
to words
reflecting my own
inner knowing.
There was a calling forth
and allowing of
my own true voice
to flow out
though my own
unique experiences
and join
with others
in such a way
as to form
a symphony
of clear sound
and the accompanying
pauses.
I began to
see my own small part
and those around me
as connected
and important —
leading us safely
through all that was
unclear.
There was a kind
of strength
that came out
of my deepest pain
and mixed with the
tenderness
shattered pieces of
my own heart had
worked so hard
to push down —
because they sensed
the amount of truth
they would cry out
was too much
for any one piece
to hold —
but they were never
seperate, really.
This strength found
a way
to reach up
just once more
when it had been
pushed down
too many times
to count.
This strength stood
and looked
at all that was
painful and terrible —
straight in the face.
And it vowed
to feel its own part
in it.
It agreed to keep reaching
because it had felt
the reaching back
of a hand
holding that same fear
that shook
in its own —
if only for
an instant.
My deepest posture
became one
of reverence.
I found my deepest
self could endure
much shaking
on the surface.
It could honor all
parts of the whole,
without clinging
to a set of ideas
I had thought
myself to be
for a while.
It was no longer
about winning.
It was about
finding a way through
a natural process,
where I had the
chance to participate
in my own evolution —
reaching for a hand —
encouraging others
through my willingness
to face
my own hidden pain
that was entangled
with theirs —
setting down
a false
sense of self
and bits of pride
in exchange for
natural beauty
and connection.
It was the hardest
and most simple thing.
Sometimes prayers
become wordless —
when there are
a million words
in the heart,
but not one
to match
the rawness
of emotion felt.
And so I offer
my deepest silent
prayer
to the place
of peace
in us all
in this moment
and the next.
And I honor
our steps
as we find our way.
Amen
When I really
got down to it,
the healer
in me
desired the same thing
as the part of me
hidden beneath
layers of distraction.
Parts of me
had gotten lost
in trying so hard
to protect
and process
as best they could,
while believing they were
separate.
The further away
they got,
the more attention
they demanded —
leading to a never-ending
struggle.
Relief came
in each moment
as I stood,
not as those fractured
pieces,
but as the whole —
reaching back
and embracing
that hidden part
that knew her own
voice —
welcoming
and releasing
all that stood
in-between.
As if by candlelight
and following
a whispered prayer,
I set out
to find my heart again.
Determined as I was
to mark the path,
I held that light
a little higher
somewhere along the way.
And in that instant,
it seemed it wasn’t
that we had strayed
so far,
but that we had forgotten
we could change
the lighting
of this place.
I honor each part
of me
and of you
that dared
to find the way
back to our hearts.
Having been led
by a whisper
of a love
from which we felt
disconnected,
we began
and we continued on.
We spoke gently because
the delicate nature
of healing hearts
was sensed.
We found strength
in the authentic
connection
with each other
and in our ability
to trust
in our highest calling
and deepest truth
when there was
no guarantee of
how this life
would unfold.
We were healers.
What else could
we do?
I found wholeness
to be a continuous,
embracing prayer
to and from
the tender place
within my deepest heart.
It included
all parts,
all emotions,
and all struggles.
It included the most
challenging parts
to love
and showed itself
in each moment —
when I was brave enough
to listen
and when I was
afraid.
It became clear
that all that had
gone before
had prepared me
perfectly for each
unfolding moment
as I continued on
a little more naturally —
holding, letting go —
listening
as thought
became one continuous,
ever-deepening silent
prayer.
Laurie's Notes 