Thursday, May 18, 2006

"Is that what they call vocation, what you do with joy as if you had fire in your heart, the devil in your body?"

I am still in London: It is raining....windy and raining but this is the cost you pay for such abundance in Spring.

I woke up this morning pondering what my next steps were. I am hovering between "am I a totally irresponsible middle aged nut?" and " I am doing the right thing in looking for my "authentic self"?. There is a battle that rages between the Free Spirit and the Virgo! The truth is beginning to unfold (and this is where the trouble starts) - I have to admit that despite heading towards 60 years old, I quite like "the irresponsible person" who in the last few weeks has sat dreaming under the trees in Richmond Park. I do like the crazy person who drove through Scotland singing at the top of her voice any song that she could remember. As fruitless as it might seem to some, I did really enjoy driving with the sun pouring through the open roof along the lochs of the Scottish Highlands. I loved the freedom of driving through the enclosed expanses of Glen Coe, dragging songs up from my memory and singing them at the top of my voice through open windows til my throat was hoarse and the sheep looked bored. I loved that each of the songs was inspired by a memory. Each song was jogged by anything that happened along my way. The wide open hills and fields dragged "Dont Fence Me In" scrabbling to the top of the song list and as I sang it conjured up images of our childhood family car trips. As my 20 year old Corolla did its best to climb the hills I could have been in the old Humber Super Snipe bursting with children and my dad's songs as we headed north up the east coast to Byron Bay.
Along the twisty road from Ullapool to Kinlochbervie I was in turn, Tina Turner then Julie Andrews. I wiggled my hips and pursed my lips as Olivia Newton John and anyone who had managed to grab a little spot along my neural pathway of memories had only to stand up and make themselves known. And I had fun. Johnny Cash and Bob Dylan, the Moody Blues. I sang my life's journey.

And yet, and as Shakespeare would say, here is the rub, I can't help feeling it was a diversion from my search and I got nowhere in finding out who really am and what I was born to do.

Scotland you are magnificent! In Spring, with the Primroses and the bluebells carpeting the woods and hedgerows and the trees just starting to wear the soft green of new spring leaves I love you. I always feel that the rich brown of the dark rotting damp humus is the perfect setting for the soft butter coloured primroses and the lavender bluebells.

Again I am digressing and self indulging. Life is not just about having fun I can hear old voices saying. It is time to let Virgo out of the suitcase and do her thing.

Just say, for instance, that I lost a sock or even a relative or my favourite silver bracelet, Would I just lie in bed waiting for inspiration?Mmmmm.... Probably. Ok, call me an old hippy if you like, but the truth is, I do know that the "universe" has a much larger impact on my life than I choose to admit. I have had evidence enough in my life that help comes out of nowhere..or somewhere I dont know about! Perhaps I need to listen closer to the signals. All this running maybe distracting me from the real search.

If I was looking for a lost aunt I would go hunting through databases and records to find out where she last was or if she had died or who might know of if she had kids. If I was looking for my lost sock I would trace it back to when I last had it. But I can't remember. I remember Steiner once said that the children begin where the parents left off... does that mean that a clue to what my "gifts" are can be found in my genetic makeup - if that is the case then I must find my lost aunt and cousins.

In the meantime I have to eat and live and that is just a fact. New friends tell me to look for a "care job" in the country. They are short term, in beautiful rural homes and include accommodation they tell me. You will have time to ponder who you are they nudge me. That suggestion doesn't seem to resonate much excitement. I guess the truth is I am not much of a "caring" type and I am untidy to boot. being forced to be "tidy" causes stress!!

Even though I have repeatedly told everyone who would listen that I would not do any project management work while I am here, I am secretly sending out resumes and looking once again for that boring, reasonably well paid, place to fall. Again fear sends me looking for safety!! That demon that whispers about poverty and old age is sitting on my shoulder with a voice growing louder as I falter.


wanderingScribe said...

The veil of mystery is lifting ....

Peaceful/Paisible said...

just a little joke for the crazy elderly women we are, read that poem I quoted in one of my blog, it's not deep poetry but I just loved it:
I said I was just popping but I spend so much time with so much pleasure...but what we'll we have for dinner?
that's also life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
then good evening my friend