Alchemy for Hard Times

This post was written October 14th. The photo image is from my office, a gift from my brother nearly 20 years ago. 

As I build this business - deeply focused and devoted to empowering us to decide, declare, and pursue what we really want from this precious lifetime - it is easy to have fun in the lightness and joy of possibility and expansion. Truly, I’ve loved every second of it. 

Yet, as I write this, I have a to-do list that includes preparing a eulogy for my youngest brother, whose unexpected passing has left us in the throes of grief these past few weeks, coming on the back of months of some of the deepest inner work I’ve ever done. So it’s been on my mind, living with fresh sadness and grief, what it looks like to come back to this in a way that feels authentic to me and this mission while meeting me where I am. 

I decided the only way I want to do it now is the only way I want to do it ever, in the spirit of building community while being of service to our individual growth and collective connection. For me, at the core of this is honesty and authenticity. 

And so here I am, balancing between the things that make us human - our capacity for the kind of love whose loss leaves us bereft while continuing to be delighted by our toddler’s growing character and our baby’s new milestones, crying one minute and laughing the next, feeling utter exhaustion one day and then a little hint of desire to move and try again the next. My husband and I went to a wedding a week ago and I was amazed at how much I could feel all at once - elation celebrating a beautiful and deserving couple, the deep sadness and regret that our next family wedding will be absent my brother, feeling not quite myself enough to party on the dance floor, sharing a real smile with my husband as we watched the bride and groom dance with their parents, as it hit us in a new way just how much we have to look forward to. 

All to say - It’s very much feeling the weight of the heaviness while instinctively stretching towards the light. Maybe it’s the Sagitarrius sun in me perpetually fueled by undying optimism, but really, I think it’s innate in all of us to transmute our heaviness and come back to joy and contentment in the everyday. 

In wanting to be back in my body and returned to some semblance of balance and peace - I spent some time with healers and teachers who have been the cornerstone of my own growth. At first, I just wanted them to just “do their magic” so I could have some relief from the fear and anxiety. And it was like magic - after back to back sessions across this past weekend I went to bed on Sunday feeling grateful, and, oddly enough to admit, a deep sense of contentment, even happiness. (For those who are familiar with energy work and mediumship this will not be odd, but I leave this topic for another time.  

The deep dive into my emotions and the unseen around us, paired with powerful insight reflected to me in the special way a skilled teacher can orchestrate, brought me a profound reminder: 

Coming back to myself just means I come back, with full acceptance, to the present moment. 

Here in the present there is nothing to control, nothing to force, nothing to expect, nothing to judge. 

Here I’m reminded that without anything to control, fear has nothing to hold on to, finally allowing space for acceptance. 

That acceptance begets more gifts, including an ability to flow again and with it deepening the well of resilience. As my teacher likes to say, “I become the river, not the rock.” 

Over the years I’ve also learned that acceptance is the foundation for more earnest connection, both to our truest selves but also to each other, in human form and spirit. When dwelling in the experience of loss, connection has been my faithful antidote to the sadness. 

So I will continue to operate, when I can, as I can, from a place of connection, in hopes that the connections are of service. If not for everyone else, then at least, selfishly, for me, for now.  

Thank you for being here.