The birth of my daughter convinced me that miracles are real. I had never previously experienced anything so full of wonder and amazement, so far beyond myself, so much bigger.
After she left this world, I held onto that belief. Desperately. Feverishly. Some days this was harder than others. But I clung to this idea. White knuckled and shaking. I gripped it like a life preserver in the ocean of grief that surrounded me, threatening to swallow me completely at any given moment. Miracles exist.
By choosing to believe in miracles, I get to experience the life-force of my daughter still in this world with me and to connect to something bigger. Anything bigger. I don’t know what that something is and I don’t need to. The possibility alone has been enough to provide me with some sense of comfort when I need it. It is a whispered reassurance that my daughter is happy and that we are still a part of each other’s lives. And that has helped me to keep my head above water.
I have traded certainty for survival.
Here’s some tips to help you do the same:
1. Open up to the idea. This isn’t about religion. This is about the very real possibility that we don’t have it all figured out. We don’t know everything. Anything is possible.
2. Rumi urges us to “Sell cleverness and buy bewilderment.” The human experience itself comes with more questions than answers. So embrace the unknown and let yourself construct the kindest, most comforting version of your reality you could hope for. Risk being wrong. What do you have left to lose?
3. Become an active participant. Think of a colour, object or creature that reminds you of your loved one or pick one that you would like to connect to. Notice when this shows up in unexpected ways.
4. Look for clues. They are everywhere but we have to be willing to pay attention. (hint * pay attention to winged things, such as butterflies, feathers, dragon flies, and birds.)
5. Meditate. Get quiet. Listen.
6. Practice. Practice. Practice.
Has connecting to something bigger than yourself helped you through your loss? Do you ever feel your baby or loved one still with you? If so, tell me about it. I’d love to hear about your experience and about what sustains you when all else fails.