Monthly Archives: April 2017

She has hope and gratitude.

It feels crazy “out there.” And, in some respects it is. Yet, we’ve had other chaotic times and  survived. Don’t get me wrong – I have my own fears about what’s happening “out there.” But I’ve been thinking about the energy of hope and how that energy can eclipse the fear and anxiety we all seem to be having.

I have a gratitude journal which I try to write in every day. If I don’t write, I make a point of saying to myself, before I get out of bed, what I’m grateful for from the day before. Here’s what I wrote one day last week:

  1. I’m grateful for the fun call I had with my daughter.
  2. I’m grateful that both boys hugged me and said they loved me.
  3. I’m grateful that I was able to run with my friends.
  4. I’m grateful that I was able to go to bed an hour earlier than normal last night.

There’s nothing special about these things. Yet they’re reminders to me about being grateful for what’s happened and hopeful about what will come.

I know someone who lost her son last year. She hurts. I can feel it. I can see it in her FB posts. But she has hope. She has gratitude. And that helps her use her pain to move forward. To celebrate what she had. Hope and faith give her strength and security.

Hope is a real and powerful force. Gratitude expands our awareness of hope and brings happiness. This may sound “weird,” but I think gratitude changes our vibration on the earth. It gives us energy to give more. It opens the door to everything. It allows us to make the changes we need in our lives and in the lives of others.

So, to all of you that I love (which is all of you!), here’s the big question for us this week:

When it seems like you are blocked at work, in a relationship, or something negative happens to you, what’s your reaction? Do you say, “Why me?” or do you step back and think,

What is my life trying to tell me right now?”

The latter, my friends, is key. How we respond to what happens to us means the difference between a life of hope and a life of despair. A life of joy or a life of anger. All I have to do is watch my friend survive the loss of her son, and I know this to be true. Stop. Listen to what the universe is telling you. It is only in those quiet moments that I’ve been able to understand and then make the critical changes in my life. It is at those times when I feel the most hope.

Gratitude makes us – the collective “we” –  stronger. It is what allows me (us) to have some amazing experiences. It’s a beautiful circle and all it takes is gratitude.

Friends, I hope you all have an amazing week!

He’s dying and I won’t get to say goodbye in person.

For many complicated reasons, I am not going to be able to say goodbye, in person, to someone I care about. My friend knows I would want to say goodbye. We both understand that will not happen. But I feel peace in knowing that he has faith in me. He knows I will miss him. And, I know he forgives the reasons why we can’t say goodbye in person.

Life rarely ever happens as we expect.

So, my friends, please allow me to say goodbye here. He will read it.

Dear Friend,

Words are meaningless here. But they are all I have. Forgive me.

I met you when my children were younger. We were both in difficult places in our lives and we shared so much about our love for life, our need for change and how we would get there. I know your road was difficult. But I loved that our conversations ended on a positive note every time.

I know you finally found the peace you so deserved. Yet, my heart breaks knowing you won’t get more time to enjoy that new life space.

Now you have limited time remaining on this earth.  And, I’m heart-broken. Losing you will send a shockwave through our community. We will be affected by your leaving. You meant something to many.

I know very little of these last few months. But, I know that you are surrounded with people who love you. They are flawed, as we all are, but they love you. I know you know that.

I’ve learned that death is not an end. It’s a transition. A migration. A change. A new birth.

And so it is with you. You may not realize all the impacts you have had on this world. Or you may feel that they are insignificant. But, I know otherwise. Because you have impacted my life significantly. No one who was touched by you will ever forget you.

So, let me thank you for our experiences together. Thank you for the gift of appreciating every moment I have – an unintended consequence of your illness. Thank you for having faith in me. It helped me move forward in ways I could not have imagined.

Goodbye my friend.  I value all that you are. I will always treasure the scar I am left with by your leaving.

I pray for your peaceful transition.