The Final Journey

Companion of Life, Guardian of Death,
more and more I resemble an old gnarled tree,
wrinkled bark, gray boughs, thinning leaves.
The ground around my roots is weakening.
My limbs bend and no longer stretch very far.

Grant me the ability to not be afraid,
even in face of significant physical change.
Be a source of deepening hope
during my internal and external adjustment.
Keep me trusting in the deepest part of myself
where love and vitality are stored.

Teach me about true and everlasting beauty,
to be compassionate with my body in its growing frailty,
to love my mind and heart even as my life wanes,
to befriend the wrinkles and accept the grayness,
to be unthreatened by the depletion of my energy
and the waning of memory that was once keenly alert.

Ancient One,
Fill my heart with joy in the little gifts of life.
Let me find sources of comfort and serenity
in the midst of my aches and loss.
Be my near, ever-vigilant Beloved, as I experience
The creaks and groans of the aging process.
Show me how to embrace this transition time
as my soul ripens for its final journey home.

“When you have grey hair, you will still find wisdom.” – Ecclesiastes 6:18

From Prayers to Sophia: Deepening Our Relationship with Holy Wisdom by Joyce Rupp

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Journaling subjects:
What do you see as the blessings of aging? What is most difficult for you? What kind of tree do you envision yourself to be at this time of your life? Sketch this tree.