• Pamela

The Gift Of My Father's Death

Updated: Aug 23







All morbidity aside, my father's death was the spur that cracked open the hard shell covering my sense of well-being and identity for as long as I can remember.


I was estranged from my dad for 12 years at the time of his death.


At one point in my life, my father was everything to me. He was handsome, debonair, the life of the party, some of the things a little girl idolized in her dad. He was my grand protector who could do no wrong.


He also frightened me.


His duality which encompassed a complex dark-side placed a wedge between us as I got older. Although this father-daughter relationship shattered to the point of no return, an energy existed about him that I continue to miss to this day.


What I didn't know at the time because of the limitation of youth was that a spark lodged itself within me based on the dynamics of our volatile relationship.


After his passing, I would share the story of my father with immense, albeit weepy gusto. I was the grand victim, mentally held hostage with him as the evil over-lord. According to my tale, he was the reason I lacked confidence, and limped through life with low self-esteem.


I kept myself imprisoned, and victimized by that story for decades unable to shift its trajectory until through circumstance turned and worked in co-creativity with the source of all things.


Co-creating sparked and unfolded this long forgotten gift that held courage, resiliency and perseverance as its legacy.


The rigorous internal shift made room for me to see my father as a figure that acted as an important catalyst for who I'd eventually become. My story and how I shared it changed too. No longer was it a tale of disappointment but one of growth and preparation.


I began to see the beauty of my past. It had a rhythm that only hindsight affords us. As tough as it was in those anguish filled days I now see it all occurred with precision.


The shift that took me from a blathering, ugly-crier to one that now leads thousands through the journey of connection to their power brings an outer and inner smile.


When I think of him I send up a prayer of gratitude. I thank him for the part he played. I also thank whatever forces played their part to open my eyes to the grand dance of unfoldment.


Expanding our ability to witness who and what we are, IS the mission. It's not about how much stuff we can ultimately gather, but about who we can eventually become and how close we can cozy up to our true selves.


From the ashes of that past, we can allow a new story to emerge.


What's your story? Go back and sweep through the ashes of your yesterday and there you'll find your gifts and perhaps purpose. Open them, the past incidents and circumstances once labeled as bad, unforgiving or unfair. It may look dusty and threadbare, but it begs your attention. Revisit them. Come to know that the up-levelled part you will eventually play, resides in the fruit of those long forgotten experiences. Appreciate the messages those times still hold. Open and use them. Most importantly, hold them in sacred gratitude then let them go.


Take a look at the stories you're still telling that siphons your power.


I could continue to tell my story of woe, proudly wearing my tiara of victim-hood. Infinitesimal moments of old energy still find me but now I swiftly catch them and immediately pivot to better, if not grander thoughts.


This is the secret, my friend: turn the story around. Start by connecting to the source that retains the power to produce the change you wish to see in your world.


I surrendered to this life-affirming power. It set the stage for the shift and what came next.


What about you? Are you willing and ready to discover the nuggets of power in your past and use them to fuel your future? Give it a try and see what happens.


***If you believe your story is too overwhelming debilitating to your emotional well-being, please consider seeking professional assistance to safely walk you through.





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