Several days ago I promised a post about service from the head / heart / gut and I have been wondering why I haven’t written it yet. All the pieces are in my mind ready to be written, but another part of me knew something else needed to come forward beforehand.
Yesterday a part of the puzzle appeared: the distinct impression that I somehow have skipped over middle age into old ladyhood. Since high school I’ve kind of nurtured this dream of all of us buying a house together in Ojai, where we were in school, once we became old maids / widows. I would grow my hair out long and gray and wander around a backyard redolent of sage.
In many ways, I feel like that old woman now. Not in the sense of feeling decrepit, but in a “When I am an old woman I shall wear purple” kind of way. This old woman does not need to impress anyone or accomplish anything more than she already has. This is liberating on one level, but it can also be confounding when one is not yet in her “twilight years.” When I began the process of healing a few years back, I spent so much energy letting go to great effect. But one thing I did not expect was to lose all sense of ambition and desire, for those have been such driving forces for most of my life. Who am I without desire? What takes the place of ambition? [Update here.]
Apart from the confusion, there was also a certain sadness that crept in, because I do not want to be old before my time. Just four years ago I was discovering renewed vitality and more strength than I ever imagined when I started flying on a trapeze. Why was this old lady appearing now, and what did it all mean?
Last night I sat in meditation just to get a better feel for her, and this morning I asked the Akashic Records for more clarity. I will be sharing some of the surprising answers that I got next up. Although the topic is kind of…specific, I think it might be a useful view into how having a personal discernment practice, such as the Akashic Records, can provide very helpful—if surprising—guidance and support for when we find ourselves in those very mysterious periods in life.
PS: My mom had this book in the 90s, though I never read it.