Loss, Legacy & the Infinite Book of Life
There’s a quiet truth that often meets us in moments of deep transition—whether through loss or new life: everything we love, we must eventually let go of. Not always through death, not always through distance, but always through change.
Love, by nature, invites impermanence. It’s the exquisite risk of opening the heart in a world where everything is in motion.
Today I find myself sitting with this humanness—the ache of knowing that all things pass, and yet somehow, nothing is ever truly gone. I feel this profoundly now, as I carry life within me. A future ancestor, growing in my womb. A being I have not yet met being woven into creation & form with each day that passes. Formed of both earth & stardust; it quite simply blows the mind wide open. Concurrently, the 8 year anniversary of the passing of my beloved father looms. As I prepare lunch, I am hit by a wave of grief that floods my entire being. Brought to a halt. Cracked open. Reminded of grief's gripping nature & presence. It's ability to take over & bring one into a timeless state, just as love does. In that moment, the pain is as alive as the moment it struck. All one can do is ride it out, feeling its intensity & allowing it to pass through, knowing calmer waters always arrive.
Dad's favourite poem Invictus has left a permanent reminder of the unwavering declaration of inner strength in the face of life’s storms. I carry those words always;
"I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul."
And he carries me.
Not from afar, but from within.
Within this child.
A thread unbroken.
And alongside him, I sense the others—the ancestors known and unknown—woven into every fibre of my being, whispering through memory, through intuition, through love.
We are here. In your breath. In your becoming. In the quiet spaces where you feel alone, we gather around you. There is no separation. There is no end. Only the turning of pages in a timeless book called Life.
And it's then I wonder; can I hold it all? Can I be with the force of this pain & also the love that accompanies it? It feels like a great task and yet the greatest of gifts to be able to see & hold the paradox of oneness & separation. How is it that I am so lucky to be able to venture to this land that many cannot summon up the courage to journey to & through? I wish to share it with the world. Go there! Feel it. Allow the pain of loss in whatever form it takes, to crack you open. For awaiting you is the greatest gift of life.
Death and birth are not opposites. They are dance partners in the same circle. To grieve deeply is to love deeply. And to give life is to trust that love is stronger than time.
We are never truly without those we’ve lost. We carry them, and they carry us, across lifetimes.
So here I am, grieving and growing. Letting go and receiving. Missing my dad's presence and somehow feeling him closer than ever. Learning to see life not as a line with beginnings and endings, but as a great, spiraling story, not bound by the human construct of time. One that we are always writing, even as we sleep, even after we die.
And in this, I take comfort:
That love never leaves.
That we belong to something far larger than we can ever understand.
That we are fractals of one infinite source.
That birth and death are simply chapters—
not conclusions, in the infinite book of Life.