Opening on All Levels: The Lake After Loss

The yoga teacher was right: eventually, over time, we open on all levels. I had spent years doing physical healing work. When Erich died, the emotional and spiritual layers demanded their turn. The lake became my sanctuary through it all.

The Yoga Teacher Was Right

Every morning it reflected back to me exactly where I was—and where I could still grow. I watched raindrops create perfect expanding circles. I saw lily pads submerged after a sudden storm, yet still reaching for the light when the water receded.

The same lake that once held my children now held me in my grief. This continuity brought its own quiet comfort.

The Lake as Sanctuary in Grief

The lake is always changing. So are we. The invitation is to stay open, keep the inner spring flowing, work with whatever shows up, and trust that a new balance will come. Thirty-five years on the same shoreline, and I have never stepped into the same lake twice.

Neither have you. Our lives continue to shift and renew, even when the surface looks familiar. Midlife often brings these deeper openings—asking us to integrate old grief, honor the body’s wisdom, and trust our inner knowing.

Change Is the Water Itself

I felt the same lake that once held my children in the womb now holding me in my grief. The water showed me that change is not something that happens to us. It is the very nature of being alive.

Lily pads reach for light. Raindrops create circles that expand and fade. The shoreline itself slowly reshapes with each season. Everything is in constant, gentle motion.

Thirty-Five Years and Still Learning

Thank you for walking this shoreline with me through these reflections. If any of these lessons ripple into your life, I hope you’ll let them settle in their own time. I may never see the full wake of these words—but I trust the lake to carry them exactly where they need to go.

With love and an open heart, may we all keep opening on all levels, as long as it takes.