Peeling Back the Layers

Last week's yoga class left me feeling quite undone.  Rather than returning home in the usual state of gratitude and contentment, I encountered a crushingly difficult, grief-filled evening instead.  That overwhelming sense of loss dominated much of the following day as well.  This was a first - yoga had never had that affect on me.  Upon reflection, I realized that my grief had been triggered by the teacher's suggestion that we each set an intention for class.  After some deliberation, I had silently asked for a hug from Michael.  Of course, my rational mind knew that was physically impossible.  However, another part of me entertained the notion that the hug may come in the form of spirit connection.  Alas, in Savasana pose at the end of the class, I recognized that neither had occurred, and the tears flowed.  I was again reminded that a physical hug from my son would never occur. Obviously this was not new information, so what was going on?  Why such an intense response?  Perhaps it was the perfect time for me to access yet another layer of grief.  My mind, body, and soul were in that deeply connected state of existence, allowing for further penetration of reality. Peeling back the layers.  Like in the onion analogy often referred to with regards to personal growth.  I wonder how many layers this onion has. 

The Sum of Its Parts

It has been eleven days since I last posted here, by far the longest spell between entries since I began this blog thirty-three months ago. During this past week, each time I sat down to write, I kept thinking that I could address one or two of the numerous instances of positive feedback the book was receiving.  I would get stuck - there were, and continue to be, so many examples to choose from.  Friends, family, acquaintances, the community at large, as well as complete strangers are responding to the book as I hoped they would - with open hearts.  When I sat down this afternoon to again ponder a possible blog entry, I reflected on the overarching themes of love, support, and gratitude.  It then became clear.  Rather than trying to focus on just a couple of specific examples, it was easier to address the sum of its parts.  Each of the individual acts are expanding our collective energies of love and gratitude.  Love and gratitude, the two words found inside the open heart on the book's front cover.

The Paper Child is Born

After an eighteen month gestational period, the paper child has been born at last.  Energetically, producing this book had similarities to pregnancy - nurturing this being, eagerly anticipating its arrival, and periodically, feeling impatient that it was not coming soon enough. Then, when the time was right, ushering this creation into the universe and celebrating its existence.

Birthing this creative project was truly a team affair.  The strong and frequent messages from spirit guided the perfect individuals to step up to the task long before any of us (the writer, editor, designer, and printer) recognized that a book needed to be created.  Together, we have succeeded.  Through this book, a broader audience will be exposed to many comforting messages including "Death is not the end" and "Love is eternal".  I feel deep gratitude from the invisible and hear their sighs of relief.