Pumpkin Cottage

Pumpkin Cottage
sit and visit a spell

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

The Angry voice of a Soul

My soul is hoarse from screaming this week.
Barricade after barricade.  Scary, Scooby
Doo, turn back signs at forks in the road.
My mind takes over, I tell myself, you are an immigrant,
not even first generation.

I want my soul to shut up.
I love my life. Shut up already.
Don't tell me, I need to live my purpose.
Don't tell me, I am wasting my God given talent.
Please please let me be satisfied.
Please please stop calling me.

Here is how the theme presented itself this week.
It's only Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the Lenten
season. Time for sacrifice, reflection and prayer. 

Song of Solomon 3:4
The watchmen who make the rounds in the city found me,
And I said, 'Have you seen him whom my soul loves?'
4"Scarcely had I left them When I found him whom my soul loves;
 I held on to him and would not let him go
Until I had brought him to my mother's house,
And into the room of her who conceived me."

Really, the one my soul loves?  Words with depth of
meaning, so romantic and powerful they bring tears to
my eyes.  I have prayed for the Lord to stand down,
to allow me to enjoy my standard unexceptional, but
wonderfully blessed life.
To allow me to not to heed His call.

Then this: lissa rankin MD clink on the link to read
her post on "Are you overriding your soul with
should?"  Yes, everyday I override my soul with
should.  Even if I turn a deaf ear, my soul sends out
messages, brings people to me, has me turn the radio
dial, and stirs trouble.  I don't believe in coincidences. 

All I ever wanted out of life was to have a family,
have a job (not career), and create art.  There were only two
vocations I dreamed about: acting and teaching.
All the naysayers discouragement was enough.

Being called to vocation is not enough.
You must have courage to listen to your soul.
Is yours talking to you, mine is hammering in my
head and heart relentlessly.

It is  dissatisfaction, is it  fatigue plaguing you,
is it the dread of Monday on Sunday evenings or
is like me, a constant tap tap tap?

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