Last night, as Mom lay in her hospice bed, seemingly asleep but aware of everything, I played her favorite opera arias. Her face instantly relaxed, and the corners of her mouth turned slightly upward. Soon, she was lightly snoring and drifting, no doubt to the front-row seats of the opera house. Mom shared her passions with me while growing up, and now I can feed them back to her in a magical state of limbo and openness.

Her body is frail beyond all hope. Her soul, however, is intact and open to receiving joy.

How much easier would life flow if we remembered to feed our own souls and those of others, looking past foibles and physical abilities?

What music would you listen to? What book passages would you reread? What paintings or pictures would you revisit? What sensory items would you recall?  The feel of warm sand on the seashore? The smell of apple pie baking? The sound of birds overhead?

Today, I am working on my soul by just being in a state of open joy from simple pleasures. I focused on a gorgeous white and purple bearded iris for a while and recalled the garden at our first house. I dangled my feet in the pool and was transported to water time fun as a child and with my children. I didn’t dwell on these moments as much as I opened myself to feeling the joy.

This is a beautiful practice in hospice, as is the case with Mom, but why wait until then?

Feed your soul and those of others whenever you can. Sitting vigil can seem daunting, but last night, it was magical.

Wishing you magic and soulful joy,

Mary