Walking in this magical place after torrential rain in motionless air, I overheard a group of women ask, “Why don’t we come out here more often?” Answer, “It’s the getting out the door that’s the hardest thing.”
Why don’t we permit ourselves to go out the door?
I know my time here is precious with proximity to such gifts of nature, and I never take it for granted. Walking outside is so essential to my mental health that even during weeks of overwork when only time to walk is in dark, I walk. Maybe illustrates my tendency to avoid gyms like the plague, but I’ll take an air/rain/wind/sleet bath any day over moving inside a gym. Another blessing of living in a rural space. I’m not so sure I would walk in darkness during my big city days.
So many questions have arisen for my spirit guides lately. Am I living my purpose? Am I doing enough to serve others? What concrete steps can I take to reach my dreams, my basic needs?
One answer I received around self-expression with an image of an arm placing round items into a basket: “You are gathering voices now. When it is time, you will speak.”
Transcribing voices for a living can be fascinating and also moving. I have been inspired immensely by clarity about humanity expressed by people who have endured the worst humanity has to offer (refugees of all kinds). Something about that contrast is super powerful and gives me more hope about humanity than anything else. Once I am past supporting my child through her final year of public school and earning her own way in the world which seems to take my entire focus, this population is who I want to serve in some way. Tutoring English to immigrants and refugees was the most rewarding person-to-person thing I’ve ever done in my past, and I’m percolating on contributing my energies there when possible.