I’m turning my thoughts to grief, loss and how we manage in those terrible times of sadness. Those of you that are used to me blogging about happiness, joy and authenticity might be a little surprised to discover that in our times of sorrow and grief some of our same energy tools are powerful allies. During this month of blog posts, I’d like to share with you some parts of my story and how I dealt with the pain of losing a loved one. These are excerpts from my new book, Walking in Grace with Grief Meditations for Healing After Loss. (See Part 1 of my story here)
The Big Question: Why Him, Why Now?
While I could intellectually grasp the reality that Rick had died, I needed to understand the whys: why this happened and why now. The next day I called my teacher Miwa, a very wise psychic, and asked her if she would read Rick’s Life Contract for us. David and I got on the phone the second night and talked with Miwa at length.
As she sat in meditation, she accessed the Akashic Records, the account of all that has happened in a spiritual being’s many lives. Miwa explained that Rick’s most recent past life had been one of anger and frustration. He had died as a young soldier fighting in one of the many small wars around the world. He was an angry, unhappy young man in that life, and his Life Contract for this lifetime was to come in for a short time but to do it with happiness instead of anger. Miwa told us that he had completed his Contract, cleared the karma he came to clear, and was ready to move on.
I had always believed in reincarnation—that we exist as eternal Spirits and come to earth to experience certain challenges and emotions. And, when we’ve completed our lessons, we return to another dimension to review our progress and prepare for another cycle of living here on earth. As we make ready for our trip to earth, we call together the Spirit forms of our soon-to-be-parents, siblings, friends, and colleagues. God is there too. We gather around a big “conference table in the sky,” and we design our soon-to-be life. We think about what our main purpose will be in this lifetime, and we design a life that presents many challenges and learning opportunities. Some of us choose to deal with only one issue; others choose many. Everyone at the table agrees to be a participant in this Contract of Life. Some will choose to be our mentors and trusted friends. Others will choose the harder role of being the “mirrors,” the ones who push our buttons and cause strife and disharmony. Each will take on a role that enhances the learning opportunity of both parties.
This Contract of Life includes many variables, or different paths that a person may take once they come to earth. Some paths are straight and narrow, leading right to the person’s overarching purpose, while other paths are full of curves and unexpected dips and bumps. Some life paths are long and others are short. Every day that a person is alive, she or he chooses which path to travel. This is free will in action.
During our reading with Miwa, she explained that just as there are many paths, there are many exit points on our life path—opportunities to cross over and return to life after life—if our Spirit so desires. She told us that it was a surprise for Rick too when it came time to “go,” as he’d forgotten he had signed up for a short life this time around. She ended by suggesting that David should grieve and not bottle up his feelings, and she recommended that we both work on grounding and staying present throughout this very difficult time.
As David and I listened to Miwa describe Rick’s personality, we both smiled through our tears. Yes, during this lifetime our son had been a happy-go-lucky kind of guy who was full of sunshine, jokes, happiness, and good times. He enjoyed a wide range of friends and activities. He was fun-loving to the core. We were beginning to understand that Rick was meant to be here for just a short time. That’s why he lived life the way he did. From infancy on, he was grasping at every opportunity to have fun, to be the center of a gathering, and to bring together people who didn’t know each other.
We came away this night with a profound acceptance that Rick’s Contract with God did not include living long, and that’s why his life was so very full. Those of us left behind must honor the timing of a death. It is not for us to say whether life was too short. It is perfectly right just the way it is.
Walking in Grace
These two events—AC locating Rick and explaining the exact how of his death and Miwa’s reading of his Life Contract, which explained the why of his life and timing of his departure—led to my profound acceptance of Rick’s death. Within forty-eight hours of his passing, I found myself in what I refer to as a state of Grace. I don’t know how else to explain it. I accepted the death. I knew it was not something I could have prevented. I did not feel anger nor did I feel rage against a God that had taken my son. I experienced sorrow; a deep, fathomless sadness; grief; love; acceptance; compassion; and happiness—yes happiness—all at once. I felt God was surrounding me, offering comfort and support. I knew deep within my soul that Rick’s Spirit lived on. He had left his body, but he was alive as a Spirit. This profound acceptance and belief was the key, I believe, to my ability to walk this path in a different manner.
The anger and rage that some people feel never surfaced for me—not in the first year or during subsequent years. Instead, I felt at peace and with God. Whatever story I had about the life I wanted for my son, it was just that, my story. I think that all parents do this. We plan, we dream, we set in motion the kind of life that we would like for our children. We dream of them growing up as happy, healthy adults with homes and children of their own. We see them as productive members of society, and we want for them a life rich in love and happiness. Most of us dream these dreams, but they are just that: wishes about the kind of life we envision for our children.
I was left with a story that did not come true. My story. Not Rick’s Life Contract, but my story of what I thought his Life Contract was. My son was dead and the dreams I held for him—of marriage, children, and career—were useless. I still held those dreams, those wishes, in my body. Much of the work I did over the next few years was clearing those stories, those wishes and hopes, from my body.
I’ve come to think that grief is twofold. It’s the painful longing for the physical presence of our loved one, and it’s the emotional heartache we feel as we disengage from these unfulfilled dreams, the sorrows of what could have been. The stories of a life unlived.
I want to share with you how I walked this path of sorrow and acceptance—not to tell you how you should do it, but to offer you thoughts on how to lessen the pain as you walk your path.
If this post resonated with you and you would like to read more, Walking in Grace with Grief Meditations for Healing After Loss is available on Amazon or at your local bookstore. From my heart to yours.