Loss is a universal experience of human life. No one escapes it. It may creep quietly, slowly destroying our hopes and dreams, or it may be shockingly sudden and devastating. It might clean us out internally or it may wipe us out externally. But we all experience the grief and pain of loss.
When all seems lost, when life deals a blow that sends us reeling and we have no idea how we will recover, we have a choice: face our fears or spend all our time, energy and attention running from them.
In some ways it’s not really a choice at all. We may wish that we can resist the changes and fight the new circumstances, cling to what was in a desperate effort to fend off what *is, *when in fact the change is an overwhelming, irrepressible tide that no one can contain or control.
Ultimately the choice becomes a decision to keep moving forward, adjusting our views and expectations as needed, or grasping the remnants of our old life and hanging on for dear life, hoping that some how, some way, some time, we can resurrect our old life and put the pieces back together again.
But as international bestselling author Neale Donald Walsch says, when everything changes, change everything.
Before every tsunami or hurricane - whether it be of the physical or emotional variety - we get a warning. It is never a question of whether we get the warning, it is only a question of whether we pay attention and listen to it.
In one village in Aceh in Indonesia, just before the tsunami hit, they noticed that birds had stopped singing. Understanding this as a sign of danger, they fled to the hills, and they survived the tragedy.
Similarly one Queenslander admitted that he looked into taking out flood insurance just a week before the record breaking floods that have inundated huge tracts of the Australian state, but he decided the premium was too expensive.
Wisdom, inspiration and assistance are always available, because we are all one, and have an inextricable connection to the wisdom of the whole Universe. It is the still small voice within us all.
