While watching a couple of videos today, I realized that when Mom died in January 2023, I sort of did, too — her final six weeks were brutal as well as beautiful, and I felt a part of me die with her even while I felt the subtle stirrings of a new life being born within me.
Today and those reflections recalled to mind a post I wrote shortly after moving back here called To Die. How many times do we ‘die’ before the physical death of our bodies? And how do we honor this by opening to a new and different freedom?
Barefoot On The Gaia Path 