Paying heed
Last night I was home alone and reading. Since I'd already put away about six loads of laundry, prepared the womanchild's and my clothes for today, gotten the dishes done, swept, vacuumed, mopped, cooked a decent dinner, logged the day's food intake in the Weight Watcher's book finding myself under my points allowance, I was feeling rather virtuous. Well, make that just one teensy, tiny baby step away from self-righteous. I hadn't had the TV on all day, and that's a true victory for me. The TV is a hermit's best companion, but part of me knows that I need to reconnect with quiet and be more selective about what I choose to hear in my private time.
I was in my favorite chair, feet propped up, enjoying a slightly humid evening breeze helped along a little by a fan. The tree frogs and crickets were deep into their nightly sonata. I was deep into the pleasure of earned leisure, glad that I wasn't picking cotton like the characters in my book (A Painted House, a John Grisham novel that doesn't have a lawyer anywhere within its covers and a pleasant read). Then I distinctly heard a calm, resonant male voice audibly say my name. That was all. I knew I was alone. I wasn't afraid. I knew it wasn't a "real" voice despite its clarity and distinction. This is just something that happens to me every rare now and then, a voice from somewhere calling me.
Concerns about mental health set aside, (This isn't a conversation, dialogue or orders coming from inside my head. I know it's not "real."), I've learned to pay attention whenever I'm called. It means something is coming, a creative idea or an observation I might have missed if I weren't alert and watchful. It's often a signal that I need to be doing something other than what is in front of me, and it's never something mundane like housework or paperwork. It's always a summons to my creative and spiritual life.
I may be a little crazy, but this kind of craziness I'll thoroughly enjoy. If my voices call me to be strong, brave, more awake, more receptive, truer to my better self, I'll relish them and try to live up to joyousness craziness. In the mean time, my eyes and ears are wide open. Something is waiting for me to find it, and I know it will be wonderful.
craziness
I was in my favorite chair, feet propped up, enjoying a slightly humid evening breeze helped along a little by a fan. The tree frogs and crickets were deep into their nightly sonata. I was deep into the pleasure of earned leisure, glad that I wasn't picking cotton like the characters in my book (A Painted House, a John Grisham novel that doesn't have a lawyer anywhere within its covers and a pleasant read). Then I distinctly heard a calm, resonant male voice audibly say my name. That was all. I knew I was alone. I wasn't afraid. I knew it wasn't a "real" voice despite its clarity and distinction. This is just something that happens to me every rare now and then, a voice from somewhere calling me.
Concerns about mental health set aside, (This isn't a conversation, dialogue or orders coming from inside my head. I know it's not "real."), I've learned to pay attention whenever I'm called. It means something is coming, a creative idea or an observation I might have missed if I weren't alert and watchful. It's often a signal that I need to be doing something other than what is in front of me, and it's never something mundane like housework or paperwork. It's always a summons to my creative and spiritual life.
I may be a little crazy, but this kind of craziness I'll thoroughly enjoy. If my voices call me to be strong, brave, more awake, more receptive, truer to my better self, I'll relish them and try to live up to joyousness craziness. In the mean time, my eyes and ears are wide open. Something is waiting for me to find it, and I know it will be wonderful.
craziness
posted by Cynthia at
7:48 PM
4 Comments:
You have a connection to something...beyond...that I have never had. I something wonderful IS in store for you.
Hey, that happens to me too! It is sometimes a voice caling my name, and sometimes I hear a doorbell or phone ringing. Like you said, it generally is like a warning for me to be more alert. Like when I am asleep when I should be waking up, I'll hear my name.
I've never experienced an audible voice like that, but Allen has. It happened when I was about to give birth and things weren't going well. The voice told him it would be all right.
Just a thought:..it may be a paradoxical voice. One that sounds like a male, but is really your own voice !! Your own inner strength finding a quiet time to be heard ???
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