You may be wondering if it is possible to find meaning, purpose, or even joy again in light of your loss.

I thought the same thing. I didn’t think it was possible to live that life I was meant to live.

As I began to process my grief with Samyama I began to notice that every time I was able to bring my feelings into my heart and allow my heart to hold them, I would receive blessings and grace, every single time.

I began to realize that the blessings and grace were the exact gifts that I needed to continue on my journey. When I saw how powerful Samyama was at helping me to process my grief, I knew I was being called to show others what is possible too.

Saying yes to my grief journey and engaging my difficult feelings has helped me to reclaim my life. In a way that I didn’t think was possible. I am now living the life I was meant to live. I am doing fulfilling work that I love.

My relationships are filled with love, and laughter.

I play more, and know how to have fun.

Moreover, I want to have fun, and laugh, and travel.

There was a time when I didn’t think any of this would be possible. Even when I first received the message that losing Leah is too high a price to pay to not live the life I was meant to live, I had no idea that I would be able to welcome joy back into my life.

Grief and all of the feelings that come with it are hard, overwhelming, and scary.

It’s counter intuitive to think that if we welcome those painful feelings that we can move through them and we can feel the rebirth of a sunrise after a long dark night.

I get it, AND I did it anyway. What I know for sure is that we are meant to live our best lives, even in light of all of our grief and sorrows; and that when we do; we open ourselves to receiving blessings and grace beyond our wildest dreams.

The best version of you is waiting just on the other side of the cloud engulfing your vision right now.

The you that has always been there.

The you that calls out to be seen in the middle of the night.

The you that you that you are longing for.