I just found out my friend Monika lost her Father. She was Daddy’s girl and he was her everything. She was falling apart as I was speaking with her and I knew that feeling all too well. All I could do was to console her and tell her that it will be okay one day. And that it will change her. She’s a tough cookie and if I know her, she’ll be even tougher for it. But what does that mean? Does tragedy make you tougher or a bigger mess inside?
Like many of you reading this, tragedy has struck my life more than once. From being on my own at 17 to putting myself through school to nearly losing everything financially and personally……I’ve felt broken more than once in my life. I may not have had things easy in most instances but I got through it somehow. It is a choice, but a subconscious one at first. You’re either a sinker or a swimmer. If you want a better path then I do believe you have to make an effort and a choice to move forward.
Every time I’ve had a challenge in my life, it’s wrecked me and took me through a loop. But I came out stronger in the end. I’ve found some of the most inspiring people to have the most heart-wrenching stories. Is it because they found a way to make peace with their pain? Yes, I believe so.
Monika asked me if the pain would ever go away? If she would ever be okay. I felt her raw pain at that moment and knew that the only answer was that one day she would make peace with it. The pain never goes away. When we have something traumatic happen it’s the trauma we want to go away. The sadness and deep feelings it evokes. But really, it’s the peace we pray for. For it not to haunt us like that. Have you ever had that feeling? Like you felt so unsettled (to put it lightly) and just wanted to stop that pain from running your day. I was victim to my circumstances for a very long time.
I thought the pain would never end. The pain of missing having parents, the pain of feeling like I was the only one I could count on. The pain that my story told me I had. It took time, it took healing, coaching and many modalities that I searched for that healed me a little bit each time. It took good friends and learning to accept love. Now as I look back the process was gradual, eventual and beautiful. The becoming of me, the me who today still has heart aches but doesn’t allow them to run my day. The me that allows the feelings to pass through but not stay for good. It’s by allowing them to be acknowledged, seen, heard, felt and learned from. I can hear the voice of love tell me that my old story and belief system isn’t the same anymore.
I’ve stopped allowing my circumstances to define me. Tragedy has changed me for the better.
When my Mother died, it broke me in two. I couldn’t breathe that night or speak or think. The process was heart-wrenching. Even though she had been suffering from Alzheimer’s for a couple years, nothing could prepare me for the moment she left the earth.
A mere 2 weeks after she passed, I went on a deeply healing journey with a mentor that I’ve followed for a long time. The level 2 training that I was on to certify me as a spiritual life coach, was serendipitous to what I really needed in my healing journey. I remember Gabby Bernstein asking me ” So how are you doing with your Mom’s death ?” I answered from my head and wouldn’t allow myself to answer from my heart. I would’ve been a hot mess. I wasn’t ready for that, but it gave me the message to check in with how I really was doing. And I was numb. We had so many healing prayers and meditations that week. I was forever changed. The important thing was I allowed it to change me.
I changed in a way that would mean something to my Mother. If you’ve been following me, then you know that I’ve been going through quite a metamorphosis lately. No surprise my spirit sign is a butterfly. Everyone has given me such nice feedback telling me I’m ” a natural” when I do my Facebook lives, or when I show up like I do. It has nothing to do with anything other than allowing my pain to become my power. It’s become my message. What my mother would be so very proud of. To help others see the light within themselves by hearing my own passion, feeling my energy and raw truth. This is scary but it means something. It’s for something, if not for her, it’s for me.
I pray for you, for your pain, your tragedies, your trauma. I pray that you find peace. And that in that place of peace you choose to be someone that helps others find theirs. Even if it’s in a nice gesture, in a kind word or shoulder to cry on. I pray that you see yourself as I do, a beautiful spirit having a human experience.
I told Monika that I was there for her. That whatever she needed for her kids or her family that she could count on me. And I wasn’t just saying it because it sounded nice to say. But that I meant it, and she knew that and told me she was grateful. There’s peace in being that person for someone else.
Help someone feel their light. Be a lightworker in a world that needs it. Choose to allow your tragedy to change you for the better. And if you can’t see the light just yet, know that it’s coming. Just be open to it when it does.
In deep love and healing light,