Back in September, my best friend lost one of her children. A sweet little angel, born premature, who shared her light with the world for five months before my friend did the most difficult and selfless thing a mother could do; she let her go.
The grief I experienced from this was as you would expect. I was devastated for my friend, who is like a sister to me. I felt like I had lost a niece I never got to meet, but who took up a huge space in my heart as soon as I saw her photo. I felt selfish for my emotions because I knew my friend was experiencing grief I couldn't even begin to imagine. I let my grief unfold and in the process I developed some physical dis-ease: my right knee was in extreme pain.
While I was going through my grief, I started writing about the grieving process. It's something I've been meaning to do, simply because I've experienced it more times than I'd like to admit. Due to being unaware of the affects of grief, I have also endured what mishandled grief can do. So, I always wanted to write about it to keep others from going through the challenges I experienced.
I stayed aware and documented everything about my grieving process that is the same no matter what, even though it's experienced differently each time. In the midst of all of this, I became aware of a bigger outcome of grief and loss, besides the absence of a loved one, or a situation. This time, I could feel my Self being pushed into a new reality; a reality I wasn't contemplating or even ready for. In this moment I saw the gift of grief and its ability to shift the direction of our lives. But still, my knee's pain increased.
I blamed it on my lack of yoga. I blamed it on my lack of exercise. I blamed it on poor fitting shoes. I blamed it on all the sugar I'd been eating. Really though, all of these poor choices were a direct result of how I chose to deal with my grief and stress. I'd buried myself in my work and kept myself buzzed on sugar.
I've been slathering myself with Tiger Balm and soaking in Epsom salt baths, scented with lavender oil. I've had chiropractic adjustments to alleviate it, from an amazing chiropractor who understood where I was really holding my grief stress (right sacroiliac) and why. I've even had two reiki healings as well as participating in deep, healing meditations. Finally, I started doing yoga again, but to no avail. Nothing worked and I found myself taking Aleve about twice a week, which is more chemical medicine than I am used to taking, but it sure has helped.
One day, I grabbed my copy of You Can Heal Your Life. After doing my research I was left with this: "Represents changes in direction in life and the ease of these movements." I had one of those intensely private, yet humbling moments only the Universe and I can share; a moment where my effort met opportunity.
My reality shifted very quickly in September. Not only was I experiencing intense grief, I was also experiencing a lot of "out of nowhere, but thank God I still have a job" changes at work. I was going with the flow, but with quick changes, sometimes it takes time to catch up on every level.
In one week my life was moving in a completely different direction than it had the week before. Most of me was going with it, but, understandably so, not all of me was there yet. Once my mind processed all of this, I got up out of my chair. My knee felt tender when I got out of my seat, but nothing like it had for the last two months. As I started walking, I noticed the area around my right sacroiliac suddenly seemed stronger and more balanced too.
What can I say? I have no idea where this new direction is taking me, all I know is I feel more solid and stable on this unknown path than I did before. This is a perfect example of the spirit, mind and body syncing up; manifesting in a miracle of healing. A miracle brought about through the gifts of grief and in my case, the gifts of a sweet little angel.