In quiet corners of stillness I’m sensing doorways in my life that are open to me but I haven't yet stepped through. Early morning walks in the natural world and open spaces of solitude are leading me home to the girl, the woman, the writer, the mother and grandmother I’ve searched for, questioned, challenged, judged, and tried to shape, are coming into view. I see myself a few steps ahead, looking back, smiling.
I still have plenty of vigor and I’m strong enough to do most of the things I want to do. My body is changing. My health isn't great, but it's holding. Compared to my elders I’m practically still just a kid. Yet I’m in my 70s and have begun the passage, my journey into old age is underway. One morning I will drink my last cup of coffee after a night of dreaming my last dream. It's a recurring thought I keep having. Surprising, but not scary.
Each morning I walk my usual two or three-mile loop, but my body no longer moves as easily as it did in the past. My face has grown fragile and my skin more wrinkled. It’s a time of assessing aims. Coming to an understanding, an acceptance. A time of peace, of power, a time of forgiveness and compassion, of giving up old patterns, surrendering to changes, embracing changes in preparation for the major changes that will come. Learning the lessons of the giveaway.
I’m more aware my reserves are no longer limitless and where I put my time matters.
Time is slipping fast, softy. Lightness of touch and living in the moment are intertwined.
I hear a quiet tune in the spirit world, gently singing out the words, humility, gratitude, respect, caring, compassion, honesty and generosity, reminding me.
I prop my feet up on the fireplace hearth, and gaze into the dancing flames. All of a sudden Auntie shows up, just as fierce in my mind as she was in life, and I remember the way she answered my questions by telling me to put it in my holy center and not to think about it too much, to just let the answer come in its own time. I was returned to the times when Auntie would surprise me by talking about what was good medicine and bad, and how to figure out what to do, and not do, if power was given. Auntie’s shoulders had bent with age as she grew into her 90s but she always stood straight as a young girl when she told me her stories.
What I know for sure is that I’m moving along faster now while walking the seven ways, and the pathway is growing deeper. In my mind I hear Marie out in the spirit world talking to me. “Look inside yourself, trust your own thinking, and believe in your own power. What you are searching for to guide you is asleep within you, and if you weave the seven ways into your everyday life, your intuition will wake up.” My mind’s eye finds Marie in a soft glow. She stands up and walks over to where I’m sitting, and I can almost feel her hand on my shoulder.
