We are wired for community. If we disconnect, our bodies will call us back to the sense of human connection that we are wired for using the unexpected language of inflammation. I love dancing, so I wasn’t too weirded out when we were asked, in one of my first kundalini classes to dance like no […]
Kelly Brogan, MD
I believe it's time for a meaningful revolution in healing. In my new book A Mind of Your Own, I reveal truths about women's depression, how to holistically recover without a single prescription, and how to self-empower to reclaim your life. Order today! Learn More
Not long after my infant son died of a neonatal heart defect, my wise friend Suzi told me – “You have to give thanks.”
“I do,” I said. “I practice gratitude all the time.”
“No,” she said. “You have to give thanks your baby died.”
I felt like slapping her. What a stupid thing to say to someone who’d recently lost a child.
“Not just him, your father and brother’s deaths too.”
I was furious. But you know what? She was right.
It was hard. I won’t pretend anything else. My mind scrambled for ways to be thankful. I could be grateful my father died at 42 because it relieved him of the pain he’d endured during his long battle with cancer. I was thankful that my brother’s suicide at 20 finally ended the unendurable suffering his schizophrenia caused him. Death was an end to suffering — that I was grateful for. I could give thanks I had them with me for the time I did, that my father was a good man, my brother – a fun companion. But my baby? How could I be thankful he wasn’t given a chance at life? How can people be grateful for the violent deaths of people they love? Continue to read
The Gifts of Grief
By Edwina Shaw on Thursday November 17th, 2016 on