Last week, we talked about living life authentically, following the whispers of our hearts. Well, this past week, that very trust led me down a path of unexpected grace.
To backtrack for a moment: Like many, I carry invisible scars. Some days, venturing out feels like navigating a minefield. There was an event out of town, one that involved a precious child I adore. Logic dictated I should be there, celebrating with everyone else. Yet, a deep, primal instinct urged me to say no and stay home. Guilt gnawed at me, the familiar monster of “shoulda, woulda, coulda.”
With a sigh, I embarked on errands. As I wrestled with the “should haves,” a familiar wave of loneliness washed over me. Trips, at last completed, I climbed into the car and turned on the radio. The lyrics, a powerful ballad by Melissa Etheridge titled “This is Not Goodbye,” which I had never heard before, transcended physical presence. The lyrics spoke of goodbyes that weren’t endings, but simply chapters turning.
I pulled over, unable to contain my emotions. In that moment, it became crystal clear. It was not about blind faith, but trusting the divine spark within us. Even when it feels counterintuitive to follow the spark that guides us on our unique paths.
By honoring my intuition, my own needs and saying no to the event, a space had opened up. A space of grace that, quite literally, allowed a visit from my son, Marshall, who had passed over four years ago at the far too young age of 26. However brief, it was a confirmation that love endures, that some connections defy the boundaries of time and space.
So, the next time that nagging “should I?” creeps in, take a moment. Breathe. Listen within. You might just be surprised by the unexpected beauty that awaits when you honor your own truth. It might just guide you towards something far more magical than you could ever have planned, reminding you that you are always held, loved, and guided.
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WTF? (Where's the faith?) 
Or What, Stacy ~ here I am chewing over stuff like Keirkegaard’s either/or and Heidegger’s throwness and as ever you say beautifully and as it is, Kerpow, Or What ! Stacy 💙 … (btw another important contribution is being made by Julie Reshetnikova she’s worth checking out) … big hugs as per usual 🤗
Hmmm … I do hope that you are sat with your feet up sipping something nice and not in a hole clawing at yourself … perhaps, bits of both? anyways, just saying, hiya and thinking of you is all … btw your post about ruby’s(?) put me in mind of your post on turquoise(?) – a necklace I think – and prompted me to think about ‘cuddle quartz’ (I can’t remember its proper name) so sending this thought (or vibration) your way …
a virtual friend,
a writer, called Stacy,
writes long and short,
sometimes slow and thoughtful,
sometimes fast and racy,
this silence though,
does drive me crazy 🤪
*thinking of you is all btw others say that I violate ontological boundaries and this is disrespectful ~ uh! I say, I just gotta feeling and am saying Hi there it’s only me popping by*
I love reading your clever comments – they are “poetry” to my ears and make my day! I appreciate you always, Alec!
Beautiful Stacy. I’m glad you had that moment of beauty with yourself. It is a good reminder and lesson that it’s ok to say no and to have that time to yourself. 🤗
Beautifully written, Stacy. When I analyzed how I somehow survived my own grief – it crystallized with my embracing self-love. Your post embodies that perfectly. It was beautiful that you tapped into your intuition and set a loving boundary for yourself. I love how Marshall bolstered you, and the song arrived at a perfect time! Watching you move farther and farther along on your grief journey has been remarkable. I love how you are documenting that progress. And I love you!
Beautiful and inspiring! Thank you for the reminder to stay open to life’s beautiful surprises.
Blessings!
inspirational, well told. Yes, I’ve discovered that too: we must honor our deep feelings over social ‘obligations’; I love the illustration of the angel moving down the narrow path —