This week was a turning point in the process of responding to AYWM’s questions. It became clear that I need to do exactly that - spend a year with myself. This writing is mine. No worries about how it comes off, no worries about never having been a writer before, and no worries about self indulgence. I’m immersing myself in this process NOW and becoming a Brenda investigator.
What is my soul’s compass?
Considering my chosen paths, it’s too coincidental that a compass comes into the conversation. A compass, to me, is the thing that guides me home, the thing that brings me in safe, the thing that I can depend on when all other information is conflicting. On the ground, in blizzards at night with all spatial cues only leading to confusion – my compass has stood between me and disaster. In the air, in clouds or an endless landscape, that compass is never wrong. It’s there for the times when the other clues I’m getting don’t serve and has never failed to guide me in the “right” direction.
Last night I was driving home for the weekend and near the house (finally home!) I came into a big herd of buffalo. Buffalo on either side of the little road, with their funny red eyes in the dark. Big, beasty, elemental buffalo with no agenda. And my heart sang. I don’t know how else to describe it. My heart got that amazing little uplift that makes you want to sing and cry and laugh and shout out, “I’m alive!”
When I got to the house, the wind was blowing, the stars were OUT, and the world was dark; coyotes were singing and I could practically hear the sky. And my heart sang again. I laughed out loud. It was then I realized, these are parts of my soul’s compass! My soul’s compass is made up of all the things that make my heart sing. My soul’s compass is all the things that bring me back home, safe to myself – no wonder my heart was singing!
Brenda, you should listen to this because it’s important: these are the things that you need to depend on to follow the right course home. You should use them before it gets really necessary - use them before you really need them for safety. Think about letting them guide you home every day and even every moment rather than just when you’re desperate. Think about trusting them. Think about trusting them enough to bring you home to yourself. What could be wrong with that? What could be more right?
My soul’s compass - what makes my heart sing:
§ My dreams
§ The land, the animals, the sky, the quiet, the dark § 360 degrees of open
§ My connection to spirit, that great mystery, but not a great mystery at all, the connection to the one who listens and sees me, the wonder of it
§ John, hanging with John, the man of John
§ The kids, laughing with them, sharing their joys and sorrows, learning from them
§ My tiospaye; listening around a sweat and realizing that this is my family and they love me for who I am, they find me funny - the hodgepodge family that has sprung up to greet me here; the family whose faces are my face
§ Learning
§ Blazing trails
§ New adventures
§ Analyzing, solving complex problems, difficult thinking
§ Creating
§ Estrogen (sad, but true, and soon to be gone - brace yourself)
Done ditty done. I believe I will print this and stick it up. Blog, be damned – there are no more rules.
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