Response from Apple Farm Writer Mary Theis. Mary guides the Apple Farm Writing Group and lives near Chicago.
Of course, the loudest voice declares: “I am getting old. My body is changing – and I don’t like it. I don’t like how it looks and how it feels.”
And I hear my poor body responding: “Don’t you love me? After all I have done for you? I have served you well.” (This is one oracle – wisdom source, the body itself).
Then another voice – my soul crying: “I have so much to do – so much unlived life. Why am I awakening so late? There won’t be enough time.”
And the Spirit says: “I am ageless and I do not see death on the horizon.” And it reassures me that: “What I can do is enough. I only have to continue to listen and respond as best I can. I will never finish, and do not need to finish.”
I am listening for/to the voice that lies deep within. Sometimes, when I am able to clear the “dross” I can actually hear it, but mostly I feel it as an impulse to do a certain thing, or refrain from doing what I feel an urgency to do, or move in a certain direction. And I don’t understand why I am being guided in this way, but am at my best when I trust those impulses/voices.
There is an image that reflects how this trusting comes about in me. It is an image of large, black talons releasing my heart. I interpret the talons as representing the lifelong effort of something in me to control everything in order to protect me. Finally, as old age approaches, I can envision those talons releasing my heart so it can sing.
The response needed changes from day to day. Sometimes I feel called to express what I am learning as an image. I can allow it to unfold in this manner and understand it in a new way.
Sometimes it is a poem that shows the truth.
And sometimes, perhaps the most difficult, is by showing who I am; by trusting and acting on those impulses that I know are true. In this way, I may use my new-found understanding to deepen my work and relationships. Sometimes, for all of us, as we are true to ourselves in this way, those we touch are helped to discover their own Wisdom and Voice.
Of course, the loudest voice declares: “I am getting old. My body is changing – and I don’t like it. I don’t like how it looks and how it feels.”
And I hear my poor body responding: “Don’t you love me? After all I have done for you? I have served you well.” (This is one oracle – wisdom source, the body itself).
Then another voice – my soul crying: “I have so much to do – so much unlived life. Why am I awakening so late? There won’t be enough time.”
And the Spirit says: “I am ageless and I do not see death on the horizon.” And it reassures me that: “What I can do is enough. I only have to continue to listen and respond as best I can. I will never finish, and do not need to finish.”
I am listening for/to the voice that lies deep within. Sometimes, when I am able to clear the “dross” I can actually hear it, but mostly I feel it as an impulse to do a certain thing, or refrain from doing what I feel an urgency to do, or move in a certain direction. And I don’t understand why I am being guided in this way, but am at my best when I trust those impulses/voices.
There is an image that reflects how this trusting comes about in me. It is an image of large, black talons releasing my heart. I interpret the talons as representing the lifelong effort of something in me to control everything in order to protect me. Finally, as old age approaches, I can envision those talons releasing my heart so it can sing.
The response needed changes from day to day. Sometimes I feel called to express what I am learning as an image. I can allow it to unfold in this manner and understand it in a new way.
Sometimes it is a poem that shows the truth.
And sometimes, perhaps the most difficult, is by showing who I am; by trusting and acting on those impulses that I know are true. In this way, I may use my new-found understanding to deepen my work and relationships. Sometimes, for all of us, as we are true to ourselves in this way, those we touch are helped to discover their own Wisdom and Voice.
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