A hug for my soul

A journey of grieving and healing after child loss

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To our Fathers


I am more than lucky and grateful to have found a teacher in this physical realm who inspires me to reflect, renew and respect all forces including myself.

Yesterday’s lesson was about the formation of a complete and grounded human being.

The mother brings the child into the world. She provides her with a nest for the physical body, fuel to grow strong and to fend off diseases and a shelter to hide and heal.

The parents co-existence in the first two years of her life makes her feel not only secure but also well-fed and attended, prepares her to be a content and satisfied being for the further steps.

The father’s role comes later, when the child’s basic needs are met and is feeling safe to explore. The mother fades into a second place, as a solid background and continuously a hiding place, while papa takes her to play, explore, have all the fun and make all the mistakes, teaches her skills to regulate her emotions and think logically, it is the beginning of a chid’s best childhood memories – pure empowerment to become a functional and wonderful being, sturdy and sane enough to make peace with this earth experience, eager to settle down and be all in it.

What a perfect design and a fantastic wish. Humans are humane. We experience all sorts of emotions and react to experiences that passively and actively happen to us, we make choices which bring in new rounds of karma. Actions, feelings, reactions – all choices based on different levels of consciousness and unconsciousness. This certainly includes our fathers. Fathers are humans. Humans make mistakes and react to triggers. That’s how we learn and hopefully expand. However this understanding doesn’t exclude an imprint of lack and coldness into our solar plexus, where we store our memories about our father and experiences of self-empowerment.

Most of us walk around not realizing where our intentions are from and are directed. The solar plexus is grumpily pumping the vibe of having been mistreated into other instinctual parts of our bodies, the mouth speaks no truth but how much lacking we feel from our guts, the brain comes up with strategies to overcompensate what’s been thought to be true. We act irrational and insecure by attacking and coming up with all reasons to be right, we beg for love and attention in the adult way – through offering something or someone, through sugarcoating the despair not to admit we have been forgotten, abandoned or ignored.

Beneath the surface of lacking, there’s an abundance of warmth. From both us and our fathers. It probably needs both our mindfulness to be reactivated and shine its blinding light again, but it begins with your own light. The beam of light that can never be dimmed or abandoned. The magical powder to spice your life up, the last solution to turn this soup of life into an enrichment to the collective human energy.

Pump that into our fathers’ hearts. This love is pure and unconditional, not because it came and stayed the perfect way as theoretically described above, but because it has gone through some of the most humane experiences, be it the failure of protection, be it lacking attention, be it the loss of communication, be it one of our choices of reaction or non-reaction to a certain trigger, its abysmal content and depth is not here only to serve the purpose of experiencing human emotions, but to be transmuted into a love that is purer than a flowing river.

Your father’s river needs your love to flow. He is worth that much and more. Just like your did.

Empower yourself like I did. Speak and act authentically. This is the ultimate lesson our fathers are here to teach us.

Sat Nam.

People of the Sun


Sitting at my mother’s house, I lean my head backwards so my whole face gets to bathe in the blinding winter highland sun.

UV, UVA, warmth, life’s wonders, I got some back.

The house is different, people who live in it are different, the mentality of just chilling out and doing nothing is different, all outside circumstances have changed. The young woman is grown, the mother is getting old, the youngest girl wonders why winter can be so warm, yet they are all here. People of the sun.

Some fear its power, I miss its magic.

A warm bath or shower by the water heated by sunlight like the old days smells like the rawness of nature, mixed with the mystery of its travels and those it has spoken to. It touches my skin like grandma’s rough palms, and cradles the frozen winter kidneys with its feminine force of nurture. All cleansed. Next come tears, tears of joy and release.

Lots agree that the sun represents the infinite father figure – ambitious and authoritative. I grew up in the state of sunshine, had the luck to be nurtured by its warmth into the heart and the lives it brought with to build my body strong.

Rising up with the sun brings a lovely day; Taking a nap in the mid-day sunshine melts a frozen heart; Retreating and staying put when the sun hides behind thick clouds prevents insanity; Doing your washing and letting it dry in the sun is like inviting a hundred fluffy puppies into your garden; Tea, gardening and sun-dried hair? The soul sitting comfortably at home.

In all aspects, the sun brought me up like a grandmother, a mother and a guardian goddess. She has shaped my soul to be soft and warm, she taught me to be kind yet firm, she reminds me of my true essence when I’m depressed and hopeless, she has always been sturdy, graceful, powerful and enduring. I love how feminine yet strong it has made me, I am proud that when I need to rest and reset, she has always got my back, literally with her warm hugs.

Some see her more as a seasonal vacation, an instant glow, an attempt to nature’s secrets, or a validation of leisure and luxury of time. The sun is more than that. She has always been there, quietly yet gracefully, keeping all running their courses, knowing when and where she should make an appearance or hide, lighting up pathways for the lost and providing sanctuaries for the hurt. Where she shined its light into, love awakes; where she hides, you know it is okay to just surrender, sometime soon the next sunrise comes.

When you impatiently whine about what comes next, she lovingly tells you to take one step at a time.

It is the love of the mother.

Even when you feel your mother has abandoned you, far far away behind the clouds, she is there; even if your mother no longer has a physical body, so close to your core, her light shines, her warmth lingers.


To the sun. To those who are blessed to have mothers and those who miss their mothers in heaven. To the suns which shine so bright in our hearts.

A beautiful translation of the Japji


London Pride


In London. In a ‘I gotta see it again before our London pride is forever gone’ state of mind.

Strolling around the old hood, listening to the same music.

The old pub is the same busy with grumpy lads and apologetic ‘kitchen having a nightmare’ waitress. Uber drivers have a new sense of Brexit humor and wisdom.

And I think of walls. Walls nations build to visualize differences and an unsatisfied ego. Walls we build inside crying for healing and possibilities. They don’t segregate people or love. They segregate the earthly self and the higher self, yet what everyone needs is an inward hug.

A hug of surrender. A hug of acceptance. Surrender to what is beyond your control. Acceptance of when something tragic happens, like losing a baby, it is a calling to expand with imperfection, pain and grace.

When you allow yourself to be hurt and feel defeated a little, there’s a little life in there.

When you start to live a little, there’s life everywhere.

Magical Moments


Hi from this gorgeous water.

Jumping dolphins, gliding yellow and purple, gods and goddesses hopping around the mountains, and the crystal clear ocean.

We sit there, half meditating half chatting, wondering what it would be like when the next little soul decides to enter this realm through us.

Then I felt fear. As the very first time I fell off the surf board entering the water of unknown threats. How far away are the sharp reef from my bare face? What if a shark decides to check out near shore for lunch? The board fin is way too big and sharp. The next set of waves are definitely gonna smash me onto the invisible reef soon! And where the F is my lease!

I sat there on the beach watching the rest of the team ‘struggle’ in the waves, bitching about how cold the water was and how imperfect it was to have ruined my day.

Staring into the water almost not able to breath, I then was guided to think about the first time I caught my first green wave a few years ago. That stillness of gliding back into the present, was like…the most profound meditation full of visions, and a hundred dolphins dancing in my chest. It was my very first egoistic spirituality, and my first spiritual egoism coming together.

The magical moments. He says. Every moment we had Vincent in my belly was a moment of pure wonder and joy for us all. How we made fun of his penis in the ultrasound shot, the warmth we had in our hearts painting his room blue and picking up his first toy, the whispers on my belly before bed every night, his little feet kicking my belly at musicals and stand-ups, shows and dances, laughing out jars off with friends sharing our birthing experiences, sharing with our daughter that there was life growing within our family…he is so beautifully right, we have been blessed with all those truly magical moments which we wouldn’t trade for the world. They were not up to manipulation or control, it was just as pure as how life is, just be. I guess when it comes to day to day life, child baring is more complex than just catching waves and counting magical moments, but when you really stay within the moment, there is stillness, nothingness and everything yellow and purple, dolphins and grace.

And something also fascinating: Most spiritual teaching say there is no past or future, the present is the only tangible reality. Somehow, when everything becomes magical, even the past can be revisited, and there is pure sweetness and gratitude.

Thank you all for the precious teaching and amazing energy.

The Journey Continues


Hello from the trip that continues. And happy birthday to Yogi Bhajan.