The day my tiny baby left was a tough day. I can remember the sharp pain of grief like it was yesterday. I’d never experienced pain like that before. I wasn’t even aware that kind of pain existed.
If I were to look back on that dark day with an open heart, I would see that even in the horror, magic was present, kindness was every where and love surrounded me. The ocean that my husband and I stared blankly at from the car window, when I couldn’t face going home, glistened with life. The day was sparkling and bright. There was distant laughter and the world still turned. Inside it was bleak, but if I’d had the presence of mind to stand outside of myself and take a look, I would have seen that I was cocooned in the most tremendous light.
I had to stop wishing for things to be different because in that instant, the response to my greatest desire was deafeningly mute. The only choice I had was to surrender to what was. Cut off from any beauty and fully immersed in the darkness, I went through the days without any much needed light.
I’ve always had a strong belief in the magic and order that surrounds, but when I lost my son, I was in such an acute state of fear, I wasn’t open to see or feel anything remotely magical. In order to feel connected again, I ran toward the people who offered me love instead.
As much as people are awesome, they can’t always hold a space for you, particularly when you desperately need it. They’ve got their own stuff going on. Accessing them isn’t anywhere near as simple as aligning with your own source of Divine love which is available anywhere and at any time. You don’t even need to send a text.
As life went on, I came in and out of my faith without ever feeling truly anchored to a safe space. I realised that strengthening that connection is a daily proposition and I certainly wasn’t meeting my quota. Instead of trying to help myself heal, I used all my misguided energy to try and control people or situations slipping me right back into fear. I quickly forgot the lesson that my baby so eloquently taught me. To surrender. To hand it over. To breathe and to have faith that beauty will eventually be returned.
I had an inkling that my boy was walking beside me, trying to call me back to love, but I was so busy living an anxious life that I didn’t always hear him. Then fairly recently, he called me out and made me pay attention. I didn’t even have to ask for a sign that it was him. He just kept throwing them at me until it made me smile. Now I realise he was there all along. I just wasn’t listening.
On the fourth anniversary of his passing, I sat under a big tree and asked my boy to help me with a simple healing. It was something nice we could do together that day. I don’t know how to cast spells or moon dance or anything that requires an incantation from Harry Potter, but I know that with my son by my side, I can access and call upon pure magic. I imagined us purposefully pushing that good feeling outward, so that everyone needing a little sparkle could enjoy it.
To me, magic isn’t terribly complicated. It’s in the smile of a stranger or the helping hand of a loved one. It’s in the intention of someone willing you on. It’s in an earnest prayer. It’s obvious in the sunrise, the sunset and at the birth of a child, but it’s also in a beloved project, a new beginning, and in a much-required ending. Magic is in our pain and in our triumphs. It’s in our heartache and our ecstasy. We can’t escape magic any more than we can conjure it. It just is. It’s in a touch, a word, a photo, a kiss, it’s in the eyes of those we desperately love. We only need to take a closer look at the breadth of what has sustained us for a day to see where magic was ever present.
When we invite magic into our lives, we are giving the universe permission to lift us to our highest potential. To show us how connected we really are and to arm us with the instruments that will in-turn produce our most impressive song.
As much as pain sucks, it is an opportunity to let in more light and to find a more permanent connection to our truth. Not immediately of course, but in time. Nothing can stop our hurts and hard life lessons, but it’s so important to remember that within us and all around, is a thriving network of love and order and it’s available at any time. It’s a bit like Uber Eats. Ready and waiting for our call.
In all the fear I was encasing myself in, it was impossible to thrive, but by returning to love, I felt nothing but relief. By having a belief, no matter what it is or no matter what you call it, you have a safe haven. With conviction and certainty, you can’t help but feel held and that’s all any of us truly want to feel isn’t it?
Big transitions require big faith and they also force you to make a choice about who you want to be. Becoming conscious and aware of who you truly are and getting to know your unique connection to the oneness that supports all life, helps to remove any feelings of separateness. It’s far more gratifying to feel part of a glorious network that is holding you up and willing you toward a meaningful existence than it is to live in pain.
Choose love over fear at all times, or at least as often as possible. Open your eyes and witness your beautiful truth. Choose to hold yourself in the greatest esteem, not out of arrogance, but out of a genuine sense of devotion to the only person who you can continuously control, influence and improve… yourself. Then you’ll know without a doubt, that you are nothing but pure magic.