Searching for Signs

Grievers often look for signs of their loved ones after they are gone.  Some people find pennies in their paths, some see butterflies.  A woman told me that lights turn on upstairs when she is downstairs and no one else is in the house. She is sure this is her husband and sometimes calls upstairs to say hello and to tell him to stop scaring her. Photographs show shining orbs or an aroma wafts through the room, seemingly without cause. But for every person who tells me they have seen a sign, there are 4 or 5 who say they wish they could. They long for some tangible message from the beyond that lets them feel that their lost loved one is still present, still looking out for them.
 
But if the desire for a tangible sign is a yearning for connection, what if our loved ones ARE showing up – in such subtle ways that we are missing the signal? Does a sign need to be a paranormal, graphic gesture? If we could see these random remembrances of them as connective threads, we might discover that our loved ones are present in our lives on a daily basis.  What about the random thought of something they said, a memory that suddenly arises and makes us smile?  Isn’t this a sign of our continued connection with our loved one after they die? 

 I challenge you to consider this: if our dead loved ones live on in our hearts, then they show up in our thoughts and memories. They show up when we don’t know what to do and suddenly remember what their advice would be.  They show up in a gesture that is just like theirs, in a song on the radio, in their favorite flower that blooms in the garden.

 
I challenge you to notice that they show up every day. The signs are there if you just pay attention.

As you tell the story.....

We know each other by the stories we tell.  In fact, we organize our lives through our stories, whether it is telling a friend about the trip you took to the market where you discovered some beautiful organic avocados, or sitting in a group telling the story of your grief. We may actually be creating our lives via these stories, so perhaps it would be wise to pay attention.

A wise woman said to me a long time ago:  “As you tell the story, it begins to happen. So why not make it a good one?”  I agree wholeheartedly and find myself concerned when I spend time with someone whose stories are filled with negativity, disgruntled complaints and woe.  Not to be too simplistic, but if the stories we tell are dark and dreary, couldn’t that affect how we view the world?   If we were paying attention to the story as it is shaped by our words, would we be able to tweak it a little? If like attracts like, do we attract the worst if that is where our attention is?

Grief is such an unsettling place. We must give voice to fears, anxiety, loneliness – all those seemingly negative and overwhelming emotions.  Yet, is it possible to find a balance between releasing these monsters and searching for something positive – a kernel of gold within the muck that can give us hope?  This kernel is the heart-seed of possibilities, a “promise,” as the poet Rabindrath Tagore said.  We used this poem as part of our wedding ceremony, allowing for possibilities to show up in unexpected ways and to flower.  Did I think that widowhood would be one of these possibilities?  No.  But I continue to tell a good story and to attempt, with great effort, to transform cataclysm into a meaningful life.

What story are you telling today?  How can you use your story to transform your life?

                                             The faith waiting in the heart of the seed

                                             Promises a miracle of life

                                             Which it cannot prove at once.

                                                                            ~RabindranathTagore, Fireflies