Twenty Six Years

Photo By: Cara Hope Clark

Hello dear one,

A funny thing happened last Friday. I tried my best to be spontaneous, as a Taurus that’s really saying something. We tend to want to have things planned out. I had an inspiration to share this post but alas, my attempts were thwarted by technical difficulties. I’m crossing my fingers, hoping this one will reach you!

I have two things that I want to share with you that are interconnected. 

The first: As I reached for my phone this morning, still sleepy-eyed, I noticed the date. All at once it dawned on me that on this day twenty six years ago Claude and I were married on the Pacific coast. We couldn’t have been more in love, our hearts bursting with joy and anticipation. Each of us, utterly enchanted by that magical moment, we could never have imagined what lay ahead. 

Thankfully, over the nine years since his suicide my grief has tempered. Even so, this memory has still brought tears to the surface. 

Why wouldn’t it?

The second: The other night, I felt compelled to spend some quiet time writing in my journal. But instead, I found myself looking at an older journal entry. 

This entry felt too powerful to stay hidden. 

When I wrote this, I was seeking understanding and comfort. My heart was aching and my abandonment issues had been activated. This is a familiar story that has played out many times in my life. Claude’s suicide was one of those many moments in which that clearly came into form. As humans we tend to experience this numerous times especially while we grieve.

There have been many times where I have felt left behind on this earth walk. Left to fend for myself in this vacant wasteland of grief and loneliness. 

A sensation of being left in a stark white desert, completely and utterly deserted, panic stricken. When will I see another? When will this isolation retreat?

This experience runs deep and speaks to the core of my human essence, my human fears, my human frailty.

We are stripped down to our core while we grieve. As if we are standing naked in those white sands. The winds of change swirl around us, as the sharp edges scrape and sculpt our skin, our entire being, as we traverse this landscape of grief.

Pain…anguish…love…the perceived illusion of the loss of love. 

But the TRUTH is that we are love itself. We are surrounded by the indelible endless supply of love. Yet, as we are enmeshed in the stickiness of grief, we are blind to this.

We are born into these bodies all primed and ready to go. Little do we know what we have left behind or what we have agreed to forget. 

Nevertheless, as we move through our lives, we have glimpses. We have an innate knowing that there is more…

Despite this, we may spend years occupying this valuable commodity called a human body in a suffering stupor. 

Why can’t we set ourselves free? Why can’t we simply see that ALL of this is but an illusion…ALL of this is but a stage where we are able to play out our repeated dramas. 

Until we remember that we are more than our loss and that we are never alone, then and only then we can turn the page. We can shift our story and begin again. Remembering the light dwelling within us. 

We are living at a time in our world when we are remembering the truth of our own divinity, to the sovereignty of our souls. My hope is that by sharing this passage, you will find a glimpse of truth in your own story. A glimpse of light through the darkness of grief. 

Remember that you are always loved!

With so much love and light,

Cara Hope

P.S. COMING SOON! I am happy to report that My book Widow’s Moon is still on track for publishing in late July! In addition, you will be seeing changes to my website as we are working diligently behind the scenes to freshen it up for you. Stay tuned for more juicy details as we get closer!

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