Lost and Found
A mother’s reflection on heartbreak, resilience, and the illuminated way forward
Motherhood is a lifetime of learning how to love and let go—sometimes in the same breath. This week, I sent my 20-year-old daughter back to college for the third time, and my heart stretched once again.
This is us side by side at United Way, stuffing brightly colored backpacks with notebooks and pencils, laughing in between the quiet hum of volunteers. She slipped her arm through mine and for a moment, she was five again. ❤️
While she’s home for the summer, not only am I able to fully live into my role as “Mummy”—spoiling her, and letting her get off the hook from things as if she were still a toddler—but, it’s also a reminder of life’s stages, and both the joy and grief we can experience at such a young age.
The moments that BREAK and MAKE us. This was one of those summers for her.
As a Mom, you want to extract all of your kids’ pain, stuff them with lolly pops, bandage their boo-boos, and express, “Everything’s gonna be okay.” But, at this age, you also have to say, “It may not be okay. It will hurt. AND you’re going to rise and heal. Time heals all things.”
It’s the last thing a 20-year-old in pain wants to hear.
When your child hurts, you hurt. There’s no escaping it. I was grateful for the little moments of extreme bliss I saw her experience over these last few months, and I also dreaded and hugged her through the terribly sad moments—the disillusionment of one of her dreams. In those moments no words can take the pain away.
I remember walking her older brother, my now 26-year-old “baby boy,” through a handful of tough situations as well while he was away at college.
I also remember those moments in my life too! Now sitting on the other side of many of them, I know that in this loss she will find a newness, a rebirth, a little light cracking through the darkness that will open her heart enough to allow a new dream to be born. But in the meantime, it’s about the next step, the next breath, the next little bit of laughter found.
As a coach and healer I can find the right words or guidance to share with others, but in tender moments like these with my own children I can feel stuck in self-judgment about how to support her through this or solve it for her (because that’s what Moms want to do!).
A dear friend reminded me:
Your job isn’t to fix it. Your job is to hold the energy of her resilience, her strength, her becoming.
She knows the things she could and should do to feel better and move on, and she doesn’t need to hear me repeat those to her again and again.
This was a healing shift, because I know that when my children hurt, I ache to bandage their hearts like I once bandaged their knees. But now the only balm I can give her is presence, a steady hand, and the knowing she already carries the strength she needs.
Yes, she may be feeling LOST, but she’s already in this moment, FOUND. That’s the energy I’m holding for her.
A different scenario. Same journey.
While she’s going through her journey of loss and sadness, I’ve simultaneously been on the journey of a deeper clarity as well—with an almost impertinent voice inside that wants to push me to pick a lane and stay in it, or create a structured plan and not delineate from it. In other words, not to flow, which is very much against my nature and how I operate!
As a solo-preneur I also recognize this pattern in many of the other female founders I work with and support.
It’s the annoying little Devil voice that whispers, “Panic now! Do something before you fail!
Along this journey (nearly 10 years now!), the whisper that I and others like me mostly hear, is:
“Why is it so hard for me to trust and surrender?”
My daughter’s journey is heartbreak and healing. Mine, right now, is clarity and surrender. Different paths, same lesson: trust the way forward.
That’s why I am so grateful for the card I picked today to visually scan and align me with the energetic state that will support me, and quietly support my daughter too while, I hold this energetic space for her.
I don’t use this deck often (The 72 Names of God), but it always gifts me the right message at the right time.
For me, now, it’s a reminder that the way is illuminated, always, in the very step I take. One breath. One decision. One moment of trust. Lost and found, in the same heartbeat. ❤️
The Invitation
So, if you too feel a little lost in the maze, here’s an invitation:
Gently scan this sacred card (“Name”), right to left, a few minutes at a time, several times a day. Let the letters open a doorway of remembrance.
✨ The way is lit.
✨ The next step is enough.
✨ You are already found.
May it support you on your unique journey.
Namaste, friends!
Oh wow! 😢❤️😢