When did your soul start calling?

At what age does our soul come calling? What happens when we ignore it?

At nine years old, I won a public speaking contest and during the process became fascinated by another winner, a few years older than I. He told a harrowing story of family addiction. At home, I began to write about that – knowing nothing about it personally, just coming from deep in my imagination. My teachers and parents, curious, just let me go. Then I stopped.

In high school, I had the coolest assignment. My fav English teacher Mr. Benbow (who would later die of cancer) brought us lyrics from a Bruce Springsteen album.

Our task: in one night, write a fictional story based on the themes of the lyrics – in the order that they were given. It was the most exhilarating assignment. I mined places inside myself I’d never been. Much to my surprise, I got an A+. It would be decades before I wrote like that again. I wanted to be a dentist.

“Sooner or later something seems to call us onto a particular path… this is what I must do, this is what I’ve got to have. This is who I am.” – James Hillman

At university, I majored in Biology because it was practical. Followed it by an English major. Bio was tough. English came easy. I had noted author Josef Škvorecký as a prof, who gave me my second A+ for an essay I wrote. When I graduated from university, my first job was as a banking coordinator for $23,000 a year.

As a banking coordinator, my task was keeping the records straight for about 100 shell companies and 300 retail locations in an environment of foolhardy growth and constant mergers. In retrospect, I actually learned a lot about corporate and legal structure in that job. And – it inadvertently returned me to writing.

“The circumstances, including my body and my parents, whom I may curse, are my soul`s own choice and I do not understand this because I have forgotten.” – James Hillman

The company for which I worked sold off all of its divisions in the late 80’s (we were dealing with ‘special loans’ at two major banks – talk about hell on wheels). Shortly after I left, the company built by a father and three sons would become insolvent. The day after the papers were served, its founder committed suicide.

When I returned to my writing, all of that was years away. At a finance meeting for the parent company, the CFO asked: We’re thinking about doing a newsletter for employees – anyone interested? I raised my hand.

“We carve out risk-free lives where nothing happens.” – James Hillman

I didn’t really understand business, though I was an accountable type, had initiative and picked up fast. I was a communications newbie. Embarassing when I think about it now. Yet without assistance or training, I wrote articles, learned desktop publishing from a book, coordinated printing and hired a student who helped me stuff envelopes. It was the beginning of my illustrious career.

But while writing in corporate was good, it wasn’t enough. The seeds of my soul weren’t finished with me yet.

It’s the late 90’s now and I’m a communication consultant in benefits and pensions. I was broken open in 1996 while doing my MBA (a.k.a. was romantically devastated) and the writing that came out of me… um, wasn’t corporate. Business was no longer a shield. In fact, it never was. I was horrified. My soul smiled.

It was, as a friend’s T-shirt says: AFLU (a.k.a. another freakin’ learning opportunity).

“Depression opens the door to beauty of some kind.”
James Hillman

Again and again in my life, I chose science, business and the ether of the mind over the exhilaration of my heart and my urge to express. Again and again, I turned my back.

At age 10, I might have gone deeper in my writing. Again at 17. Again at 21. Again at 31. I turned away. The lessons got bigger.

Now over to you – What gifts have you turned your back on? What messages have you received about them? Have you ignored them? Or embraced them?

Will you follow the whispers of your soul? Or succumb to the ether of the mind? Will you resist (at the peril of your heart)? Or will you allow?

“It’s important to ask yourself, How am I useful to others? What do people want from me? That may very well reveal what you are here for.” – James Hillman

I believe that while my story was written when I was a child, I was always at choice. It’s not fate. I was never a victim, even as I faced pain. My life was a result of the the millions of meta-choices I made on the way to being a writer. Not just a writer… but a writer from the heart.

With each obstacle, my rigidity softened. When I began to truly allow (some call this surrender), the richness of life returned to the home that is my heart, and I knew that I will never, ever be alone again and that even in dark moments which are completely human, I will also experience the glow of dawn.

My foray into a new path, this writing realm of love, is an outer frontier. As the last shreds of resistance fall away inside me, I realize that this is why I am here.

This may change, of course. At some point, I may choose something else. But for today, this is where I want to be.

I maintain my business life, and my wonderful freelance clients. I’m busy. Because what I have found is that when I fix my heart onto a goal that is exhilarating to me… business supports it. Unlike when I make business my center. That’s my path. Yours is different.

Today, when I sit down to write I can hardly keep up with my thoughts. Georgian Bay’s mercurial personality shows off in a shimmering prism of blues. I’ve been tending to my folks who have needed my support recently.

Because of my most recent choices, I can freely be here for my dad who’s waiting for my mom to come home. And, I can work – both for myself, and for my clients.

For the past week, Dad and I have started the day slow. We get caught up with some writing (me) and repairing (him). Then we visit the hospital an hour away.

Surrounded by these walls of childhood, I reflect upon where I’ve been and the people that I’ve truly connected with. I am also aware of the relationships I wish to deepen, and those I’ve chosen to leave behind.

I recall endings overdue and premature, and the possibility of re-connecting anew, with souls whose hearts are as open and curious as mine.

Folks from this life. Many from past lives, too.

This is the last issue of IDEAS you’ll receive from me. Thank you for being part of my journey. It was an honour to share with you.

Though IDEAS may be winding down, I will continue to write from the heart. Just in a slightly new direction.

If you’re called to keep in touch, it’s easy, fast – and I’d be delighted. There’s much more to come.

http://tinyurl.com/moondancing

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