MAY 6, 2026 ~ ANCESTORS! Along my journey, I started to believe that all my current projects related to my ancestors. Meandering through the generations was sometimes an exhausting journey! From generation to generation, I trudged through both the “beautiful and terrible” of my ancestors and my relationships with them. Relationships are not easy and never smooth, and I endured the sting of the prickles! But you can’t skip over that “ancestor thing” that tells you every day that your DNA and theirs are forever entwined. I cannot change that, so I determined to find peace around it. When someone says “you are just like your Aunt Eirene, I can’t refute it. It’s true! I must tell you that completion of the major parts of this memoir took a vast amount of energy and fortitude from me!
An era has passed. I have just completed writing this memoir of my life, after laboring for more than three years, far too long to be writing a book about your life journey. Writing one book for multiple years can mess up one’s mind! Examining the moments of my life snatched my joy for a good period. This memoir did not birth itself! Writing it was not really ordinary writing. Instead I “birthed” it through serious “labor pains” I had to breathe through, and without a midwife!
The memoir is not quite edited and tweaked enough to go to the publisher, but it’s close. I have some emotions leftover from the writing and creating. I needed to name my emotions in the writing process, and now I need to name the emotions that came with me back into the real world.
Of course melancholy would be my primary emotion. It may be the result of the exhaustion of writing. It may be regret or sadness when thinking about my ancestors. It may be about looking back at the relationships I cherished and the ones that were chock full of sorrow, anger, disappointment, etc. No one, in my opinion, can walk away from the stories of their “beautiful and terrible” lives unscathed.
Be at peace, my good friend, for there is nothing your worries can do but make you tired. What will be, will be, shaped by currents deeper and stronger than we can swim against. Instead of flailing in time, let us trust in what is without time: the steadfast presence of the sacred in the midst of our struggle. That is our lifeline, trust in a power unseen but felt to the marrow of the soul. Hold on to that firm hand and be at peace as it takes you to calmer water. ~Bishop Steven Charleston
I have to say that writing my “Spirit Stories” as I call them was an unforgettable undertaking of both personal reflection, as well as reflection on the place of my ancestors in my life and make peace with that and breath of my ancestors. The stories revealed themselves to me and I recorded them as if they were a writ of ancestry, or I might call it a sacred document, because every part of it required a chunk of my heart.
My burning question is “what will I do with myself now?” Today, I sorted some jewelry and pressed some shirts. Since I retired and faced serious illness, I get “kind of” dressed up on some days: hair, makeup, jewelry and clothes that look decent! I did today, in black leggings and a bright pink shirt, because I felt I should mark the day in some way, celebrating the completion of this book, “Spirit Stories: A sMeandering Memoir from My Sacred Path.”
I think now I will find a grassy, peaceful meadow and fall asleep beside a flowing stream in the verdant grass with a scattering of colorful wildflowers.
P.S~ If I fall asleep in this field of dandelions, I will regret it!
I wonder if you would be willing to stop what you’re doing right now and spend a quiet moment with me, just listening? Your time might well be a needed time for you and for your soul.
There is always so much to listen to — traffic, sirens, video game sounds, annoying household noise like the washing machine/dryer, food processor, mixer, fans, buzzers and alarms and the awful sound of the disposal trying to crush that inadvertent chicken bone. These, of course, are not our favorite sounds, but they are the myriad sounds and noises we hear in a typical day.
There are sweeter sounds, too, like the sound of a gentle, falling rain or the sound of rain when it hits hard on the roof; the sound of a gusty breeze as it rustles the leaves on a tree; the sound of a flowing stream, a rolling river and constant, ever-rushing ocean sounds; the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings; the sound of cicadas on a Southern summer night; the sound of a child’s laughter; the sweet, peaceful sound of a purring kitten; and birdsong, always birdsong.
Of course, listening as pure joy is listening to music — quiet music, lyrical melodies, rhythms that slow the pulse, the sound of a bow moving across a cello’s strings, the mesmerizing sound of a harp, the velvet sound of voices in harmony or the enthralling sound of a symphony orchestra.
Sounds fill the space that surrounds us, all the time. What is rarer for us is to hear the sound of silence. Some of us fear the silence or dread silent moments. Others of us avoid it at all costs because the silence tends to bring up whatever we are afraid to hear. So the noise that enfolds us fills the place that might otherwise hear the sighs of the soul — its cries and laments, its laughter, its sound of contentedness. It seems to me that this is the place we long to be, in the soul’s sound chamber where whatever we hear — if we’re listening carefully — is the song of the soul that tells us who we are and why we are.
There is a poem that many of you will remember (if you’re old enough) as a Simon and Garfunkel song from the 1960s. The poem was written by Paul Simon and it presents a frightening picture of the modern world doomed by the lack of spirituality and the people’s aversion to the true meaning of life. It is not so different in these days that spirituality and life meaning can be elusive, no matter how hard we may search for it and yearn for it.
The poem, entitledThe Sound of Silence, is written by the voice of a visionary asking people to be serious about the true meaning of life. The poem’s message is that people are moving further and further away from true happiness because they have ignored life’s true meaning. They debate and quarrel about worthless things. They listen to or watch meaningless things. The poet writes that the people “speak and hear without listening. Like we often do?
Throughout its five stanzas, the poem presents the conflict between spiritual and material values. The poetic persona is a person of vision who warns against the lack of spiritual seriousness. The poem begins with an address by the poet persona to the darkness, saying that he has come to talk with the darkness. When he awakens, he says that the vision still remains as the sound of silence.
Some of us fear the silence or dread silent moments. Others avoid it at all costs because the silence tends to bring up whatever they are afraid to hear. So the noise that enfolds us fills the place that might otherwise hear the sighs of the soul — its cries and laments, its laughter, its sounds of contentedness. It seems to me that this is the place we long to be, in the soul’s sound chamber where whatever we hear — if we’re listening carefully — is the song of the soul that tells us who we are and why we are.
The words of the poet . . .
And in the naked light, I saw Ten thousand people, maybe more People talking without speaking People hearing without listening People writing songs that voices never share And no one dared Disturb the sound of silence
And the people bowed and prayed To the neon god they made And the sign flashed out its warning In the words that it was forming And the sign said, “The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls And tenement halls” And whispered in the sound of silence
All of that trivia about the poem certainly moved us a little farther away from my point, which is that most, if not all, of us have a deep emotional and spiritual need to listen to our souls, really listen. Even if we don’t know it, we long to hear what the depth of our being wants to say to us. We want to find our true selves, a quest only our souls can accomplish. If we are honest, we would say that we want to do the soulwork that leads us out of the darkness of our own making and into a place of light.
When we do carve out a sacred pause, when we wait in the darkness of that silent space, and when we open ourselves to deep listening, we will likely hear God’s whisper. We will probably move slowly out of darkness and realize the promise that as “God’s own people” we will “proclaim the mighty acts of God who called us out of darkness into his marvelous light.” (1 Peter 2:9)
This is the place we long to be, in the soul’s sound chamber where whatever we hear — if we’re listening carefully — is the song of the soul that tells us who we are and why we are.
— Rev. Kathy Manis Findley
Hearing God’s voice moves us to a deeper experience of life, but hearing our soul’s sighs may take us deeper still, because we open ourselves to self-knowing. It’s not a surface knowing. It is a deep knowing of who it is that lives in our skin. Without hearing the sighs our souls are making, we might never enter into fullness of self. I suggest that only the fullness of who we are can stand before the God who knows us even better than we know ourselves.
In my own experience, I think that perhaps I cannot be in deep communion with God if I try to face God as my superficial self. Perhaps God seeks relationship with my soul, my deepest place of being. To find and define my soul for myself, to know myself fully, I must find the sound of silence and sit with it patiently and expectantly. Maybe that is the essence of spirituality.
So there are a few lessons in these words and these are the obvious lessons:
Limit the harsh sounds in your life.
Surround yourself with tender, gentle sounds.
Make sacred space and holy time to listen deeply for the sounds that speak to your soul.
Listen for God’s whispers. They are important to hear.
Always consider what is, for you, the true meaning of life.
Listen to your soul — its sighs, its cries, its songs.
Andwho knows? If you linger for a while in your sacred listening space, you might just find the very essence of grace by hearing what your soul whispers to you. It will be the most beautiful sound of all.
— Rev.Kathy Manis Findley
One day I listened — really listened. And I heard the whisper of God and the song of my soul. Thanks be to God.
I invite you to hear the poem, “The Sound of Silence,” through music. It can rightly be said that no group or person could ever sing this as well as Simon and Garfunkel, but I thought you might enjoy it covered by a very popular contemporary a cappella group, Pentatonix.
God of the Sparrow 🌱 By Kathy Manis Findley 