It's been over a year since my love, my girls' Dad, Bradley Scott, died unexpectedly.
Here one day, gone the next. Literally.
As I type this I feel the pressure to offer some grand insight, some descriptive words to convey the f*ckd up year we have endured, but right now those are deep within me and not yet ready for prime-time.
For now I tune in to the signs - the fleeting moments of connection, insight, love and trust.
I dig in to resources, both ancient and modern, to offer a clue of where I am going, how to navigate, what to expect. And guess what...they all lead me back to myself.
Trusting my inner guide is a new experience. It's happening in fits and starts. Some days I remember, and others I'm lost in the past or future. Frozen in fear, regret, despair. My good 'ole inner roommate shouting at me loudly: "How will you ever be able to do this alone?"
I take a breath, offer myself a bit of mercy, gratitude and love. I look up at the trees, I listen to the birds and I keep putting one foot in front of the other, each new day.
You are so strong, and you have a deep reservoir of self-awareness to carry you along. And you have all of us to fall back on when you need to. You are not alone (thought it feels like it). Sending all my love and compassion -- and grit -- to you as you continue to place one foot in front of the [sometimes unsteady] other foot, and keep going. -Kim