Old dog. New tricks.

Some days fifty-eight feels like being an “old dog,” but I do want to learn new tricks. For one, I want to release my inner taskmaster who demands that I finish my tasks even though my back aches and I can barely see straight.

No matter that I just published a book that includes my resignation letter from such relentless old voices. It may be in print, but it is slower to be lived in the flesh.

No matter that I have spent seven years learning how to listen to my intuitive guidance, trusting the divine mystery to open doors before I arrive.

Some days old habits grab hold of my ankles and hold me to the grindstone.

As a young woman, I thought I’d get past this by the time I was middle-aged. But here I am, once again.


I’m trying to open my heart to my inner taskmaster. She has something to say. I’d like to begin to hear her as only one of my inner voices, rather than the loudest one.

My overdeveloped sense of responsibility has held me to my family and culture’s values of efficiency, planning and organization above all. In many areas of my life, this training has served me well. But not when it comes to walking through the potholes surrounding race, class, gender, and my connection to Spirit and the Earth.

I guess the new trick I’m learning is how to be patient with myself and see the vicissitudes of the life, inside my head and around me, with a sense of humor.

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