The light of spirit cannot be distinguished

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Memories automatically take us back in time. We recall, recollect and reflect to learn the lessons from our experiences.

Today, I’ve been taken back to a conversation I had with my Dad, afew weeks after loosing Mam. Although he believed in spirit, his faith was shaken. No matter how much he wanted to believe, he couldn’t feel her spirit and it upset him, but it also triggered his fear.

I was reassuring him of her presence. Reminding him that his grief was deep, so his heart was hurting. Then I noticed something on his chest. A tiny white feather was resting on his heart. When I pointed it out to Dad, it gave him hope.

It gave me hope too and it strengthened my faith. Since Mam’s death these kinda conversations with spirit happen often. On my own journey, there are times when I feel hopeless and my faith is shaken too.

When I descend into the underworld of shadows, the darkness can and does consume me. Sometimes I wonder if I’m strong enough to fight my way out. But I notice, that during those times the presence of spirit feels stronger.

Our loved ones are the light in the dark

Grief isn’t just about the loss of a loved one. It triggers any lingering fears, wounds, blockages and limitations we may have. It challenges us to confront a different reality. Invites us to take a long hard look at our own lives. And it takes us on a wild journey of transformation.

Dragging us through the past of our yesterdays. Forcing us to look at the future of our tomorrows. To help us BEcome more fully present in the precious moments of our today.

I recall the conversation with my Dad, recollect my inner thoughts and reflect.

Dad’s heart didn’t just break open when his beloved died. He lost the other part of himself, so his heart felt like it had broken in two. His heart was no longer whole, so his healing was complex. He was also confronting his own battle with cancer and his own fate, which only complicated his healing further 💔

I wonder …

How do you balance something that’s missing?
How do you heal something that’s gone?
How do you feel whole if you’re a half?
How do you heal someone who can’t be cured?
How the fuck do you find peace in that kind of suffering?

Words can’t explain how difficult it was to witness Dad’s pain. Like Mam, he often stayed strong for us. Like Mam, he always tried to focus on the positives. Like Mam, he often suffered in silence because he didn’t want to worry us. But like Mam, sometimes his pain broke through, and we witnessed the brutality of his truth and the beauty of his vulnerability.

Those were the moments that were the most difficult to bare. For me, its easier to feel my own pain, than to watch someone I love struggling to feel their own. But those were the moments that also triggered my own fear, anxiety, wounds and incompletions.

Truth is, it’s not easy to bare witness and allow the pain to be seen. Whether it’s physical, mental emotional or spiritual, it’s hard to feel our own pain.

It’s a natural response to comfort and reassure others and ourselves. It’s an automatic reaction to want the pain to stop. But what if we just allowed the pain to be expressed? What if we asked fear and anxiety more questions? What if we went straight to the source of our woundings? What if our conversations are opportunities to become whole?

Maybe it explains my own challenges in love?
Perhaps my relationship with pain is changing?
Maybe its why I need to be whole?
Perhaps I want to love differently?

The past no longer haunts me, but it continues to teach me. I appreciate that the experiences I’ve had, are the lessons I’m learning. The challenges are the obstacles I’m overcoming. So, what if, the struggles I’m having are the sufferings I’m healing?

They say that resistance leads to suffering and acceptance brings peace. So to find peace, we must be willing to let go and release what was. And to accept what is, we must surrender to change and transformation. Only then, will we become all that we can BE

Hmmmmmmmm 🤔 she ponders

Maybe that’s why the past keeps knocking?
Perhaps that’s why the past haunts us?
Maybe I just needed to see it differently?
Perhaps some bridges do need to burn?
Maybe we can’t take everyone with us?
Perhaps that’s my greatest struggle?

Sometimes, our minds need to catch up to what our hearts already know. But our hearts only know LOVE and I always follow mine, which is probably why I’ve been hurt so many times before.

My love life is one great big tragedy

But if my heart only knows love, then it’s my own thinking that hurts me. Now, there’s an empowering thought to digest. A thought that has the ability to change everything. A thought that shifts us from Damzel in distress to the Heroine, from lost to found, from wounded to healing and from incomplete to whole.

Hmmmmmmm 🤔 she ponders

What if to transcend fear into love, we must first feel the pain of loosing what we fear to loose? What if our healings are the pain we’re transcending? What if we are the Alchemist?

PS … I LOVE this pic of my parents ❤

But I still cry whenever I look at photos

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