Today I had a mini meltdown in the supermarket. Ya know when a box of Wheaties kickstarts a waterfall in the cereal aisle something’s not right.
Last night I was on a call with a coaching client, helping her figure out the best way for her to share her voice, her story, her baby who didn’t make it. I told her that I believe we all need to find something productive to pour our love into; The love that is born in us for a baby who isn’t born into a life where we can pour that love onto him or her. For me it is The Muchness.
But I guess I’ve been neglectful of my love of late.
I’ve been Trying to get to the root of that which has been gnawing at my gut. Grief, after a while, has a way of disguising itself in the mundane. The daily grind. The little things.
And there it was. Twin sisters on the box of Wheaties. Nowadays it’s hard to really “get me” in my grief. Most triggers actually make me kinda happy, I’ve learned to see them as a way my girls reach out to me, but today, the damn Wheaties box…. It just made it really clear that I’m not in alignment.
So what now? Not sure. But I need to get back into the swing of things that nourish and feed my soul. Need to get back to love.
(What’d u say? That sounds super cheesy? Well, whatevs.)
