I want to admit that I dance in public, and I hold no apologies for it. I do it when I walk the dog and I did it the other day in Whole Foods. I got a few looks from people and that’s just fine with me. How unfortunate most of the world is stuck in caring about what others may think of them. I’ve decided that I will not wait for happiness to come to me, I am happiness itself, so I’ll express it when I want to.

For the last four years, I have been on a grief journey that has felt like a roller coaster ride with numerous highs and lows, twist and turns, a real thriller. Fear of the unknown was the big scary giant that greeted me on the road to a new life. During the infancy of my grief, I felt like a little helpless baby totally unsure of myself in this new skin. The second year, I was a toddler creeping around on all fours exploring this new place within myself that was now home. The third year I was like a teenager rebelling against this new life. Now I am adult learning how to live, be, and function in this new world with this new me as I make room to grow into who I am becoming.

Over the last few years, I have sat with fear in a way I have never done before and it showed me how small I’ve actually been living. Whether we realize it or not, we are only ever showing up from two places, fear, or love. Throughout our lifetime we are either conditioned to feed one or the other based on the environment we grew up in. The one we feed the most is the one that dominates and controls our lives.

There is a pit-a-pater feeling that rumbles in our hearts. It is a feeling of the most vulnerable kind that we hide deep so no one can see it. This feeling is the kind of yearning we hold in the hidden recesses of our wounded heart that secretly still holds the story of the need to be held, loved, seen, witnessed, and honored. I can almost see our ancestors around the growing fire, singing and dancing the ancient tune of love, urging us to remember again.