Have you noticed that creative projects seem to have a timeline and evolutionary process all their own?

When I began developing what has now emerged as my new “At Peace with Life” ebook, I first wrote and packaged it as an e-mail based on-line course.  The format just didn’t seem to work, so I started over, revising and revamping the material as an ebook. 

Revision after revision later, the book is now ready for purchase on my website as a downloadable ebook for $19.95.  The book comes complete with a $75 off coupon toward a consultation session to allow for more personal integration of the contents.

One reviewer said, “I love your beautiful, beautiful book.” Another said, “I expected to skim through it quickly, but found I couldn’t put it down.  It prompted my own insights about the grief recovery process.” Another said, “It’s creative.  Thought provoking.”

The book, At Peace With Life: Embracing Health and Creativity After Loss, focuses on how we can connect with our innately healthy and resilient spirits after a major experience of change.  The change might be a spousal loss, health loss, job loss or loss of a world view, for example, the loss of innocence after a traumatic experience.

Recent research published by Bonanno et al (2002) suggests that resiliency is common after the loss of a spouse.  In the Bonanno study, nearly one-half of subjects did NOT experience significant depression or distress following after their partners died.  Several factors seemed more predictive of resiliency: a happy marriage, an independent spirit, overall self-confidence and coping skills, an acceptance of death and a belief in a just world.

The good news the research points to, I think, is that there is a way for all of us to come through loss with resilience and health.  There are principles, basic truths, that we use to create our experience of life from the inside-out, that enable us to weather life’s challenges, including the most difficult, with grace, balance and gentle humor.

It seems to me that people, including those who struggle to connect with their resilience overall, often appear to reclaim the best of the best within themselves WHEN they are confronted with a major loss.  Over and over I’ve seen loss become the birth canal for greater generativity, creativity and an indomitable spirit!  The “Women of Wisdom” stories on this website testify to that fact.

So, if you’ve come through a loss and are ready to re-engage with life in a new, strengthened, more creative way, I invite you to read “At Peace with Life.” I’ll welcome your reflections about the material.

Bonanna et al. (2002). “Resilience to Loss and Chronic Grief: A Prospective Study from Preloss to 18-Months Postloss.” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology. Vol. 83, No. 5, 1150-1164.

Monday was my first husband’s birthday.

I haven’t seen his sweet, crooked smile in seven years, since he died suddenly. Yet, the essence of that smile, the love it evoked, is as strong as ever.

I remembered that smile all day. The thought was peaceful and so very grateful.

I’m grateful whenever I see the echoes of that smile in my tall, slender daughter’s kind face.  She reminds me of him constantly and that is a blessing I never fail to count.  She pays forward his love.

Jim taught me to protect turtles, and I’m grateful for that. I move them off the road whenever I see them crossing, to prevent unfortunate accidents. Doing so reminds to be present to spirit in all of creation.

I’m grateful for the family I was welcomed into when we married. My heart is soft with respect and love for them.  The harmony they keep is special.

I’ so very grateful for the years we enjoyed together on the hill in Millstone, West Virginia. Times spent laughing and dining in warm country kitchens on snowy winter days with hill friends are like hot fudge sauce on the ice cream of my dearest memories. 

250,000 miles spent together on a Gold Wing Interstate motorcycle, touring back country all over the North American continent.  I’m so deeply grateful that we witnessed together the amazing beauty of this land. 

I kept his leather. Every once in a great while I just hold it and inhale the scent of it. In my imagination, I can still feel the warmth of the sun on it and his body in it.  That makes me smile.

I especially remember the trip around the Gaspe Peninsula in Canada. We cried together several times because the beauty was just almost too much to take in.

I’m grateful for the depth of his love and understanding. I know he would feel nothing but happiness that I am so in love with my new husband. He was just that way.  Jim would love Bill. They are cut from the same beautiful cloth, woven with love, peace and good humor: men of simplicity and uncommon wisdom. 

Jim’s life and death have been such a lesson: try to leave nothing behind but love and good will.  Such purity of feeling illuminates the path for those who must go forward with hearts broken open by the presence of the giver’s absence.

Jim’s birthday is my gift.  Thank you JP. You ARE remembered. Always.

Recently, a colleague expressed some surprise that I wanted to write a book about loss.  She said, “But your life isn’t about loss, it’s about life…a big, full life!” She may be right.  Maybe there’s another “big life” book in me!

Yet….I find myself called, or pulled, I’m not sure which, to extend a hopeful hand to those of you out there who are finding your way back to a full life after a loss. 

The time after a loss can be so sacred. I think about the loss of my first husband. That loss slowed me down. Turned me inward. Loss made it difficult for me to think and to analyze. 

Somehow it seemed to me that my ears got more sensitive and my eyes developed x-ray vision.  I listened deeper. I saw deeper. Into the heart of things. Into what really mattered.

One moment stands out in particular.  I pulled into the driveway of my home in the West Virginia mountains.  It was hot; early summertime. The ground was moistened and the trees perspired with the rain dropped by a quick-passing thunderstorm.

In my car, the CD, Love is Space, by Deva Premal was playing: the song was a chant honoring the Divine: Jai Radha Madhav.

I sat for awhile before leaving the car, listening to the beautiful sacred chant and absorbing the natural beauty around me.  The colors seemed very bright. The fragrance on the air was fresh, strong and beautiful.

A peace surpassing all understanding enveloped me.  I knew I would be all right.  I knew Jim’s death was all right.  I knew life was going to turn out all right. Somehow. Some way. I felt it from within, even though I had no idea what would unfold. 

My grief broke, like a fever, and a huge wave of love and gratitude had me laughing and crying at the same time. Hard to explain. But it was a turning point.

And unfold life did…to new, inspiring work; to a wonderfully loving partner; to the joy of watching my daughter mature; to becoming part of a much larger family, and more.

Loss taught me that if I was quiet enough; if I was awake to the wisdom within me, life would simply unfold and I would see opportunity and possibility.

I held out. I waited. I listened. When it came time to act, I acted.  And here I am: stronger, more alive, hanging on to a peace more often than not that surpasses all understanding. So can you.