I was 25 years old when my father died, I remember standing at this burial ground and thinking I should just jump in.

Think of new born babies, with all the pain they endure to come into this world and yet a few minutes later most of them are asleep. Do you know why? Because they have not yet learned to dwell on pain.

Unlike adults babies don’t remember pain, they don’t massage it, they don’t feed it and they don’t let it take over. They feel it, and then let it go.

When I lost my father, I did not understand that letting go of the pain was not letting go of the memory, I held on to every memory painfully, I became desperate and careless even turning to alcohol and drugs to numb my fear and pain.

Disappointments are bound to happen. When I lost my job a couple of years ago I cried on my way home and then stayed in my car across the street from my house for 4 hours thinking of how to tell my husband and children I had been fired, the shame of not being good enough at something they thought I was good at seemed too much for me to bear. Even when I eventually opened the door I pretended for three more days that nothing happened before I eventually told them about it.

BUT! Guess what? Only the end of the world is the end of the world. Life happens, things change, plans go wrong and sometimes some things are just not meant to be.

In your moments of fear and hopelessness, ask yourself what would a fearless you do?

Then do it.

At my father’s burial, I didn’t jump in, I walked away and went back to school.

When I lost my job, I didn’t stop working I eventually found another job.

When my husband of 29 years suddenly filed for divorce while I was on holiday with our kids last year I finally realised I didn’t have to have the same reaction every time, that I didn’t have to sink to horrible lows just because I was in pain, that I too could be like a new baby, feel the pain, cry and then exhale.

And that was I what I did. I exhaled.

I asked myself – what would you do if you were not afraid?

And I did just that. I quit my job, moved out of town and opened a bed and breakfast by the sea.

Not far from where I grew up. Sometimes at night when it’s really quiet, I can almost hear myself giggling as my father threw me up in the sky telling me ‘Laura, you are going to be just fine’.

And this is what I know now, that no matter what you are going through right now, you will be ok. Eventually.


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