A women over 60 and A Typical Conversation with her Soul

—or—What It’s Like to Live This Way (Spoiler: It’s Not for the Faint of Heart)

Yesterday morning, I was on fire.

Ideas poured out of me like honey. You should’ve seen it. Me and My Soul? We were co-creating like Thelma and Louise on a joyride—wild, intuitive, unstoppable. Words. Strategy. Vision. Momentum. I even had the soundtrack in my head. Something triumphant.

Then I made lunch.

Then I went outside and chatted with a woman in her 80s who reminded me that I’m not as invisible as I sometimes feel. It was lovely. Grounding. Real.

Then I came inside and waited for my Walmart delivery. (Because real life still happens, even when your soul’s on a roll.)

And then—I passed out cold for two hours on the couch.

When I woke up, I made coffee. Had some blueberries with sweet cream. Told myself I’d get back to work now that the day was mine to shape. No alarms tomorrow. No obligations.

But here’s the thing…

The buzz from this morning?
Gone.
Flat.
Nothing.

I stared at the screen and thought: Did I lose it? Is it over? What happened to the fire?

Cue the panic spiral.

Then, like she always does, my soul walked in—barefoot, unbothered, holding a cup of tea and a mirror. And we had one of our typical conversations:

ME: I didn’t do the painting. I didn’t finish the PDF. I don’t even know what tomorrow’s post is going to be.
SOUL: …Okay?
ME: I’m afraid I lost what I created.
SOUL: You didn’t lose it. You shifted frequencies.
ME: But I had so much momentum!
SOUL: You also had a nap. That’s called integration.
ME: So I’m not broken?
SOUL: You’re processing. That’s different.
ME: But what if it doesn’t come back?
SOUL: If you created it once, you’ll create it again. You’re not a one-hit wonder. Now go meditate.

(That’s how she talks to me. Loving, but direct. No fluff.)

---

This is what it looks like to live with intention.
To tune into your own rhythms.
To ask your soul before you ask the algorithm.
To trust your creative pulse more than your productivity tracker.

It’s not glamorous.
It’s not efficient.
And it’s definitely not for people who are addicted to hustle, approval, or full calendars that serve everyone but themselves.

But for those of us who’ve chosen to rewire instead of retire—
for those of us who crave more than just checklists and secondhand joy—
this is the life.

Messy. Holy. Intuitive. Uneven. And deeply, deeply real.

If you’ve ever wondered what it might feel like to live this way, welcome to the sneak peek.

Maybe your own rewiring starts with one small question:
“What does my soul actually want today?”

And maybe—just maybe—it’s time to start listening.

Here’s the practice I return to multiple times a day when I am listening (which, clearly, I didn’t do today—and it showed).

It’s simple. But don’t let that fool you. It’s powerful.

What would your soul say… if you actually stopped long enough to listen?

And maybe—just maybe—it’s time to start listening.

Maybe your own rewiring starts with one small question:
“What does my soul actually want today?”

And maybe—just maybe—it’s time to start listening.

If today’s post stirred something in you—if you felt seen, curious, or just a little more ready to begin again—don’t forget about the Porch Resource Table. It’s my growing library of soul tools, mini-guides, and downloadable PDFs created specifically for women like us who are rewiring their lives one brave step at a time. Browse around, take what you need, and come back anytime. The porch light’s always on.