Someone asked me recently... "How can you just decide to choose better?"
I had to make a real commitment to do whatever it took to get to the next better feeling. I recognized I could not go from A to Z without going step by step. A to B to C to D, etc... I could not go from the deepest sorrow and bitterness to joy in a day.
That meant taking small steps to keep choosing again, to continue to choose the next better feeling and emotion. To make an appointment to see a therapist, to reach for a different thought, to stop repeating the negative part of my loss story over and over and over again, to seek out an outlet to bring positivity into my life, to honor instead of resist whatever comes up in any given moment and steer it back to love, to recognize every opportunity is a place to grow, to align myself with high vibrations, to pray about it all and surrender when I knew I could not possibly do it on my own (I was not meant to), to make my...
Ragnar Trail Run.
Northwoods of Wisconsin.
Requires running into the dark.
Head down, heart racing, following a path into the unknown, in fear, to the things ahead I cannot see...
Falling. Bruises, cuts and scrapes. Aches and pains. Struggling. Continuing the race, broken and tired. But fighting until it is finished.
I think this is the metaphor of my life.
After the loss of a child, life is certainly a struggle. I recognize and honor that truth. And it is ok to struggle. But you have a choice every day to fight for more. In truth, that is not easy. But it is possible.
You can either let fear of the unknown slip into every other part of your life, inhibiting you from truly enjoying it. Or you can battle and fight, start to stretch yourself, take risks (even with fear, not knowing the outcome) and still fully experience the beauty left in this life.
After the loss of Ari, the things I once feared and thought that if attempted I would surely fail, I have conquered. I...
Our little ‘lion of God’ rightfully earned her name. From the moment of late daughter's official diagnosis of Trisomy 13 on November 7, 2016, Ari overcame so many of the odds stacked against her. The biggest odd of them all, surviving.
On a train to Chicago, our son Chase unknowingly captured this photo of me. After scrolling through all of the photos taken that day I stumbled upon this one. I froze. I saw a lion.
What?!?! Yes, I saw a lion, but most likely not what you're thinking.
See the way the light blends with the edges of my hair? It creates a makeshift mane so on the surface, I immediately see a lion. But beyond the obvious, looking closer and going deeper... I see more.
I see the focus and clarity in my eyes, fixed on the thoughts of forward progress. A course that was intuitively set from the very beginning of my story. I see the patience and stillness in my body, a distinct understanding that there is...