My Inner Voice: Tuesday's Reflection

This summer I have added five chapters to all the other chapters 

My Writing Notebooks

 already written for the spiritual memoir I am writing, and I hope to write two or three more this month. I am pleased with the accumulation of words and pages, but I am also aware I have much more to do to meet my goal of finishing the first draft by the end of this year. Periodically, however, I question why I am spending so much time pursuing this goal.

In fact, the other day as I pulled a book off my shelves, looking for a quote I knew would fit the material I was currently writing, I felt the air in my garret change. I stopped and stood very still. I waited, but for what I didn't know. In the quiet I sensed a voice saying, "Nancy, how will you feel if your book is never published?"

The question is not theoretical, for the publishing business in all its mysterious ways is vague at best and seems designed to shake loose all one's self-doubts. Clearly, however, the question coming from my inner voice, my spiritual radar, is not about the publishing process. 

The question is about my call to write. This is not the first time I have been nudged to answer this question, and I recognize I will be asked to answer this question again and again.

"Nancy, is this still what you are suppose to do? How will you feel if your book is not published, if no one ever holds a book with your name on the cover in their hands?"

Ok, voice, I will spend time with you. I put down the book I was holding. I closed my laptop. I set aside pen and paper. I moved into centering prayer, quieting myself, resting in God, allowing paragraphs, sentences, words to float away. I attempted to rest in my own being without expectation of answers. I rested.

Later, when I prepared our evening meal, chopping green beans, washing lettuce, I felt The Voice once again. Yes, not just heard the voice, but felt its presence and this time instead of prodding with questions, I received answers. Affirmations. Direction.
      "Nancy, listen carefully and repeat after me: 
            I write because in the writing I change.
            I write because in the writing I uncover whom I was created to be.
            I write because through the writing I live and move in the world more authentically.
            I write because in the writing I meet God.
            I write because the writing, published or not, read or not, creates change in the world.
             I write because when I write, I respond in a more healing, whole way to all I meet, even those whose eyes I meet for an unrecognizable moment. 
             I write because I have to. 
             
Yes, of course, I hope my book will be published eventually, and I promise to do all I can to make that happen and still be true to what I've written, but no matter what, I will write. 

An Invitation
This is the most important part of this post, for this post is not just about me. In fact, it isn't really about me at all. It is about you. 
What is your inner voice asking you, inviting you to do? What is your inner voice insisting you do? And how are you responding? I would love to know. 
           

Cancellations as "Found" Time, a post by Nancy L. Agneberg

Recently, plans have changed. Dates and appointments have been cancelled. An evening out with friends. A phone date. A lunch date. A visit from a friend. A visit to a friend. Even an appointment for a showing of our house was cancelled. Most of these items on my calendar have been rescheduled (Not the house showing appointment, however. Rats!), and most are just examples of life happening. Understandable and acceptable. Rarely do I worry about possible motivations underlying the change. Most of the time I don't view the cancellation as a criticism or disinterest, but instead, just one of those things. 

The Gift of Found Time

     However, this bundle of recent cancellations does make me wonder why so many in a short period of time? Is the Universe trying to tell me something? A message to be more flexible? An opportunity to be present to challenges in others' lives? A chance to let go of some control? To breathe? 

    Over the years people in my life have heard me use the phrase "Found Time." When plans change that open up space I didn't expect to have, I think of that as "found time." Sometimes found time happens when I am in the waiting room of a doctor's office or waiting to get my hair cut or an airline flight has been cancelled or delayed. I amaze myself, frankly, in those situations that I don't feel irritated or frustrated. Most of the time I am able to shrug my shoulders and exhibit patience.  I always have a book or magazine with me, so I relax easily into my found time with little or no  resentment. Sometimes, for example yesterday when the house showing scheduled for the mid afternoon was cancelled with a phone call first thing in the morning, I suddenly felt I had a whole day ahead of me; a day that did not need to include vacuuming and dusting. And a day that even included an extra hour, thanks to the clocks being set back, Talk about Found Time! 

How to Use Found Time

     I recognize that the experience of found time is a chance to listen to my heart. What is it I most want to do right now? My immediate inclination when there is a sudden appearance of found time is to fill it. Do errands I didn't think I would have time for. Do the next thing on the list of tasks for the week. Get a jump on something I planned to do tomorrow. Be productive. Accomplish something. Finish something I thought I would have to set aside. 

But sometimes I hear and respond to another message in the sudden appearance of found time. "Nancy, put your feet up. Sit. Relax. Enjoy time to read or write in your journal or take a walk. Slow down and listen to your heart." 

     Because there have been so many instances of "found time" lately, I have to wonder if instead of being asked to consider only my use of the immediate time, although that is a gift in itself,  am I being prodded to reflect on the bigger picture? How is it I want to be in the time I have left here on earth? How is it I am supposed to use my time? What is my purpose for this stage of my life? My call? I must admit I am struggling with that a bit these days, sitting in the midst of transition, a transition that feels a bit stuck to me. 

A New Intention 

     Therefore, now seems like a good time for a new intention; an intention that will not only help me respond to unexpected moments of found time, but will be a reminder to live in the present, for I believe it is in the present where we are given hints about the life we are meant to live

     My new intention:

For the next two months I will live fully in this house and in this holiday time of family and friends. I will honor requests for showings, but will treat them as a bonus and not as expected.

     As a sign of living fully here and now in this house, I moved my laptop back to the room on the lower level I have used as my office. Some potential buyers have not been able to imagine how to use this space, so I have "staged" it to look more like a family room. Many of my spirituality books, however, are still on the shelves, along with board games for family fun. This is where I feel most inspired to write and where I need to be. Here I can better fulfill my intention and find the time to write and study and pray. Here I can live in Found Time.

Reflection Questions

     How do you use "found time"? How do you respond when plans are cancelled? 

     What new intention is asking to be acknowledged in your life?

One last thing: Here in Wisconsin we continue to have lovely fall weather, although the temperatures are a bit cooler. These are "found" days. 

This is the Season, posted by Nancy L. Agneberg

Apparently, it is spring. I have been hearing the sandhill cranes in the morning and actually saw two flying like arrows yesterday. Robins have definitely returned, and crocus and daffodils are appearing. Yesterday,  granddaughter Maren and I went to the Milwaukee Zoo, where it seemed that every young mom was pushing a stroller the size of an RV, eager to introduce her baby or toddler to the sunshine. Maren and I envied the brown bear frolicking in the pool, and we wondered why the polar bear didn't take the plunge, too. True, we could have a blast of winter again, but we have turned the bend into the next season, and any further wintry weather would simply be the acting out of a spoilsport. Therefore, instead of anticipating spring, watching for signs of spring, I better catch up.  Apparently, spring is already here. 

      That's not all that has arrived. This morning I started reading Creative Aging, Rethinking Retirement and Non-Retirement in a Changing World by Margery Zoet Bankson (http://www.skylightpaths.com/) Reading this book makes me realize even more that I am not being teased by the thought of retirement nor am I anticipating the arrival of this older stage of my life. I am here. This is the season, the retirement season. 

     Bankson calls this period between the ages of 60 and 75 a "generative period", "a period of possibility," and because we can expect to live longer than previous generations we have the luxury and the responsibility to explore the question, "What is this period for?" Bankson challenges us to find a new call for our later years. Call, as Bankson defines it, is the "inner nudge to wake up and notice our place in the greater scheme of things...a special way of understanding what we are here for, our reason for being." 

     Of course, the trick is to discover the call for this season. Some people enter retirement with a clear direction. They are eager to put into operation their "encore" career. Others have felt stuck in a job and are eager to do something totally different. Others are weary and need a time-out. Others flounder during this time, aware there is something out there, but with no real idea what that might be. Some have so fully identified with pre-retirement life that it is hard to imagine what this new time could possibly offer them. 
     It seems to me that in order to hear a call, one must get quiet. And then when quiet no longer feels too disconcerting or disorienting, it is time to notice. Stephanie Dowrick in Choosing Happiness poses the question, "What does the eagle see?" What does the eagle notice when he sits in the tallest tree in your loop of life and observes you? 
     I started a list of what my eagle notices about me these days: how happy I am when I am writing; how I am less interested in home tending than in the past; how I am exercising less these days than I was a year ago and that has bad consequences for me; how I am reading less, especially fiction, and writing more; how my days are full and good, no matter what; how I am more flexible and resent it less; how shopping is more about necessity than choice or pleasure; how grateful I am for my family and friends; how open I am to what's next, no matter what it turns out to be, but also how I want to decide what's next.  Dowrick suggests that by noticing, by playing the part of the eagle for ourselves, we are deepening our self-awareness without being self-absorbed and therefore, we will know a call when it appears.   
     I washed the front porch floor today and moved the porch furniture back into its spring, summer, fall location. I look forward to having meals on the porch again and using the porch for reading and writing, as well as greeting the neighbors as they stroll by. It's spring and I am retired, and it is time for new growth and new beginnings.