When i stood outside myself - almost three years ago now- my heart ache for the woman who had lost her son. Tommy wasn't just any baby. He fought hard. He had been through the worst. I was in such pain for her lost. It wasn't fair. But shit- the her was me.
My teacher @seanecorn wrote about #heartbreakingopen today on Instagram in a way that I understood so profoundly. I lost Tommy and then very (too soon) after that had a late miscarriage. This most turbulent and tragic time in my life pierced through me like lightening.
I finally and boldly had to look right back at her. Gazed hard. Winked.
The her was me.
Sean Corn writes: "i pray you can trust the process, let it open your soul and allow for a new awakening to occur that can bring you closer to your highest self in love."
Three years after chaos. I look at this picture. I love the height of it. The weirdness of it. The expression of wonder and ah. Hanging out in the sky, she is light and expansive. She rises and she flows. Like a star.
Oh but wait, that's her.
No. That's me.