This is a rewrite of an earlier piece, more as a poem:
Moving with momentum through the still frames of circumstance, life acquires grace. Through time’s orchestration of ever-changing tones, I step to the threshold in a spirit of participation.
With God as Witness, I ask how best to serve: performing, listening, accepting, traversing, or simply giving love?
Life is magical when lived in stride—to feel God’s guidance, to live to see the light.
With time as teacher, I learn patience and surrender. Through time’s ever-presence, movement becomes seamless.
To move with time is to honor God’s gift. When circumstance prevails, there is a sense of something forgotten—until I remember: Keep the momentum. Go forward with grace.
Upon picking up my pen in the New Year, the words that came were: first thoughts are best thoughts.
On the first day of the year, I recall the verse from John 8:12: When Jesus spoke again he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”
These words are with me in the realization of what life really is. In beginning a New Year, there are resolutions and consideration for what I envision in a personal sense. But more importantly, I choose to follow a path of light. The true life is one in which God’s word shines through us—whatever the task, wherever we are.
The path of light is one of daily communion, an innermost place of giving and receiving. It is one of staying true to oneself, regardless of what goes on. It means “being in this world but not of this world.” It means time alone with God, though people and situations enrich us.
When we stand in light, following the way, we are guided each and every moment. Momentary existence may be for better or for worse, but there is a constancy that cannot be denied. When we find that inner vibrancy, there is joy.
The New Year means to me:
1. That I embrace the child within with love and devotion.
2. That I turn my life over to be used as only God can.
3. That life is not about searching but about following.
4. That the wish for myself extend to others: Goodwill and Peace, no matter the trials and tribulations.
The New Year brings hope and renewal. May a beacon of light guide your way.
I’ve expressed in a variety of posts how love allowed me to recover from the loss of my son. Here is perhaps one last post on this theme, which remains dear to my heart. These stories stand as one person’s testimony to the miracle of love, as it transcends from one realm to another.
Loss as a Journey in Faith
After my son died, I was sometimes told, “You never get over it.” But I had faith in a journey that could allow me to recover, believing that only good can come from love.
The difference between these two approaches may be illustrated by a story. My brother Bill, who is a psychologist, was working with a patient who had lost his daughter. Bill mentioned that he had a sister who lost her son and who thought of her loss as a journey. Some time elapsed, and one day the patient remarked, “Your sister saved my life. I had only thought that there was life before my daughter died and then there was life after she died. After she died was like arriving at a dead-end. There was nowhere to go from there. My life was over. It didn’t occur to me that my loss could be a journey. So thank your sister for saving my life.”
I felt humbled by my brother’s story because it had never occurred to me that I could possibly not be on a journey, and so had missed what is most important. That it is possible to step onto a path in loss and go places we have never been before, perhaps awakening onto a new dream.
We create our own realities by the beliefs and attitudes that we hold. In truth, life after profound loss is never the same. It is an experience that encompasses your entire being—mind, body, and spirit—and from that comes growth. It teaches you to appreciate the small gifts of life. It can change aspects of your character and personality. I became more authentic, less prone to want to prove myself. I simplified my life. Most especially, I learned what can’t be taken away. And therein lies the saving grace in loss.
When someone we love dies, we lose their physical presence, but the essence of that person lives on. The radiance of Chris’s smile is with me always, as a feature of his soul. And the love between us lives on, soul to soul—pure energy, a beam of light. It exists wholly, with holiness, in the moment unfolding. By letting go of what once existed but is forever gone, we can find the eternal bond. It takes a journey, one founded in faith, to arrive at this discovery.
Little by little, the light of love fills the void that loss leaves. You can become whole again. And you can know joy, in ways perhaps you haven’t known before.
For the past month I’ve been writing and preparing for a live on-line Hay House seminar. It was supposed to air June 11 but was postponed until Wednesday, July 10, 10:30 PDT. This is a free event, and I will be sending out a link later for registering. You will be able to call in with questions and comments, and I certainly encourage you to do so. This event is important to me, as it is my response to what I was given after losing my son 10 years ago. Following is the course description:
Freedom to Fall: A Spiritual Approach to Loss
This course is about loss and the redemptive power of love. It is designed to help people navigate through the loss of a loved one in the best way possible, whether the loss occurred years ago or recently. This live online event will help you come to terms with a loved one’s death, finding the courage to let go while holding onto what is truly important. By making daily shifts away from the past and into the present moment, magic can happen that engenders healing.
My book, Freedom to Fall, is the story about the death of my son in a rock climbing accident and how I was able to keep our love alive, allowing me to redeem my life. This is not a love that clings but a freeing love that is joyful.
We will explore ways of cultivating a sense of a loved one’s presence after they have died as well as ways of letting go. The two go hand in hand! In those two practices you will be promoting a deep spiritual truth: Love is eternal. You never really lose who you love. Once you develop that awareness, it is yours forever—for the giving and receiving every day.
You can begin benefiting from this dynamic approach to loss today. By learning to keep alive the bond with a loved one, you begin a process of recovery. There may always be an element of sadness for losing someone you love. After all, loss is real. But a more profound reality can emerge through practice and faith—a beam of light shining through the loss, awakening invaluable gain.