Each time I hear, see, or speak the words SOUL LIFE I revisit, for the moment, my childhood. How easy it was then to visualize every possibility as I had yet to place parameters on my own dreams. Still time has a way of shifting who we are and I now consider my dreams—past and present—an element of my Soul Life.
Why you may ask? Well it began at my birth. I was surrounded by family on all sides and wherever I wandered. Each voice conveyed innuendo as to the caretaking of a spiritual life. Of course I was unaware of this until years later and my encounter with a high priestess; my Great Grandmother. She arrived in America from Italy long before I was even a thought. And until I was a grown woman I did not spend much private time with her. Until that one day… Her blueprint was to rock slowly back and forth on her front porch; a grey shawl wrapped tight about her shoulders. On this morning she shared with me saying: “It’s my time!” She continued rocking and added: “The angels carry my soul back to God.”
She continued her rocking cadence but remained silent; even though I asked her to explain …my time. Whether or not she lived beyond “…my time” I shall never know. Yet that moment with her I shall never forget.
These days there are social media sites across the spectrum as to the Soul and its purpose before life during life and afterlife. Our guides in this open dialogue are names like Deepak Chopra, Gary Zukav, Eckhart Tolle, Oprah, Wayne Dyer, and so many more. I do not pretend to speak on their behalf or on behalf of my great grandmother.
As to the word soul I see it as an intention given by God with a return date required.
In 1965, a federal initiative cataloged us as the “Older Americans Act;” in response to concerns by policymakers of a lack of community social services for older persons. Over time, like modernizing a nineteen-hundred’s Edwardian coattail, assorted modifications are made to the Act; in-vogue until a trendy designer once again influences the blueprint.
Each alteration stitched into the fabric of an Older American’s catalog:
Identifiers: seniors; baby boomers; aged; vintage, and disadvantaged elderly.
Classifications: Medicare; Medicaid; elder abused; indigent, and forgotten.
Dwellings: multi-generational; assisted living; elder day care; respite care; shelters, and the streets.
Caregivers: volunteers; kinship caregivers; community; friends; spouse; doctors; church parishioners, and sometimes strangers.
Recognition: our society is aging; diseases of the aged are hot topics; political clout endures, as does our abiding deference for America.
Yet, this inventory begs the question: Are Older Americans nothing more than trade names, identifiers and a burden on society? I don’t presume to answer for you. But I can share with you that we lived our formative years alongside History as she made her own world-wide alterations—gashes to the framework of what we fought and died to safeguard. Still, our vital heartbeat persisted long enough to shape a country better than what we inherited.
Imminent Inheritors: My hope is that together your vital heartbeat will benefit those who trust in a future you are shaping!