Listening for your calling
After a particularly restful visit to the woods of northern Wisconsin, I was sitting in the passenger seat of our car as my partner drove us home. I dozed off watching open fields of wheat interrupted by lush pines, rocky shorelines and old Indian lands. In my half-sleep half-dreaming state, I heard my name.
I opened my eyes and looked at my partner. It wasn’t his voice. He just looked at me and smiled before getting back to the drive, unaware of what I’d just heard. Interesting, I thought. I shrugged it off and settled back into my seat.
Again, as I stood on the edge of sleep, my chest rising and falling with deep breaths, I heard it. No, I heard her. It was a woman’s voice.
This time I let myself enter the dream instead of waking up to investigate. I continued to breathe steadily until I felt my body sink further into the dream-space.
Then I was in a quiet café. There were no other patrons around. There was an old Native American woman behind the counter, the owner perhaps? She didn’t seem to be paying any attention to me.
Even as I watched her, I heard the voice again.
But the elder hadn’t moved.
“Are you calling me?” I asked, my voice cracking through the silence of the empty café.
She looked up at me with the widest expanse of wheat fields in her eyes.
Without opening her mouth, from somewhere deep in her soul or her mind or her heart, she projected a voice. It was more like a gust of wind.
She said, “Can you finally hear?
I’ve been calling you.”
We are often called: to places, to people, to creative projects and spiritual paths. But we can’t always hear.
Many things block us from hearing the call. Fear. Doubt. Overworking. Trying too hard to carve out the way. But the truth is that the way cannot be forced.
The way has to… emerge.
Luckily for us, it always does.